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Souths 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


GI:FT  OIF 

Curtis   H.    Ve<*aaF,»86 


TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN: 

5  1943 


OB 


THE  SEEDS  AND  FRUITS 


IN  THREE  PARTS. 

COMPLETE    IN    ONE    VOLUME. 


ANDKEW   JACKSON   DAVIS. 


1  Truth  is  stranger  than  Fiction." 


SECOND    THOUSAND. 


BOSTON: 
WILLIAM   WHITE  &   COMPANY, 

BANNER  OF  LIGHT   OFFICE, 
158   WASHINGTON   .STREET. 

NEW   YORK  AGENTS— AMERICAN  NEWS  COMPANY. 
1869. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1SG9,  by 

ANDKEW  JACKSON  DAVIS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the 
District  of  New  Jersey. 


McCr.EA  &  MILLER,  STEEEOTYPERS, 
50  Greene  Street,  N.  Y. 


y*  86 

PS 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CEIME. 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOOM. 


THF^EE. 

REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME. 


1211697 


INTRODUCTORY. 


THE  following  series  of  strange  and  startling  and 
tragical  events,  which  I  am  now  called  upon  to  make 
public  for  the  first  time,  are,  even  to  the  minutest  details, 
founded  upon  facts,  with  only  a  thin  veil  between  the 
reader  and  the  real  characters  whose  temperaments,  cir 
cumstances,  temptations,  virtues,  vices,  and  crimes,  are 
herein  truthfully  recorded. 

The  principal  facts  concerning  the  manifold  causes 
which  developed  the  "  Mysterious  Association  of  Crimi 
nals"  in  New  York  and  vicinity,  came  to  my  knowledge 
about  twenty-five  years  ago.  The  investigating  reader, 
who  is  curious  to  know  more  on  this  interesting  point, 
is  referred  to  a  volume  by  the  author,  entitled  "  The 
Present  Age  and  Inner  Life,"  pp.  259-265.  The  strange 
incident  therein  narrated  will  repay  perusal. 

It  is  believed  that  so  long  as  mothers  and  daughters 
shall  exist,  such  disclosures  as  are  made  in  this  volume 
can  not  but  be  productive  of  the  best  results.  Not  less 
are  these  fearful  scenes  important  to  fathers  and  sons. 
Because,  if  to  be  fore-warned  is  to  be  fore-armed,  these 
horrible  and  truthful  pictures  of  the  causes  of  crime, 
and  these  faithful  delineations  of  the  ways  of  profession 
al  criminals,  will  serve  as  beacon  lights  and  guideboards 
by  which  maidenhood  and  manhood  can  avoid  the  evil 
and  choose  the  good. 

A.  J.  D. 

NEW  YORK,  April  20,  1869. 


PAKT   I. 


TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness." — Bible. 

FOR  ages  the  office  of  the  regularly  graduated  physician 
lias  been  regarded  with  a  profound  degree  of  respect.  In 
European  countries,  and  in  the  olden  time,  his  wisdom 
and  his  public  function  were  regarded  with  reverence, 
which  was  freely  accorded.  He  is  furnished  with  a 
diploma  of  "  doctor  of  medicine,"  and  is  thus  dignified 
and  empowered  by  a  law  of  the  land  to  practice  his  pro 
fession.  He  is  supposed  to  be  deeply  versed  in  the  laws 
of  nature ;  to  comprehend  all  the  secret  causes  of  human 
suffering ;  to  be  a  perfect  master  in  natural  philosophy ; 
and  to  judge  correctly  of  the  physical  condition,  and  even 
of  the  characters,  of  individuals,  by  examination  and 
observation  of  their  pulsations,  tongues,  countenances, 
gestures,  and  other  external  peculiarities. 

This  unquestioning  confidence,  reposed  in  the  office  and 
wisdom  of  the  medical  man  of  science,  is  manifested  in 
many  ways. 


6  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

One  hundred  years  ago,  the  diplomatized  and  estab 
lished  physician  frequently  took  precedence  of  the  vener 
ated  priest  in  the  confidence  of  the  family.  Confessions 
of  sins  and  sufferings  to  the  minister  were  almost  uni 
formly  of  a  negative  character.  In  pious  moments 
especially,  when  the  soul  is  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of 
its  total  and  eternal  dependence  upon  God,  not  un- 
mirigled  with  a  deep  realization  of  its  vanities  and 
unworthiness,  the  female  heart,  less  worldly-minded  and 
less  vainglorious  than  man's,  confesseth  freely  and  fully 
to  negative  sinSj  such  as  repining  thoughts,  want  of 
watchfulness,  proud  feelings,  unforgiving  temper,  foolish 
imaginations,  secret  neglect  of  holy  duties,  hasty  expres 
sion  of  envious  words,  coldness  in  the  affections  toward 
heavenly  things,  and  so  on  through  the  whole  catalogue 
of  spiritual  infirmities  and  concomitants  with  which  our 
nature  is  said  to  abound. 

But  in  the  privacy  of  the  sick-chamber,  when  the 
stricken  patient  fears  that  the  tide  of  life  is  fast  ebbing 
away,  the  physician  often  becomes  the  recipient  of  con 
fessions  of  vices,  crimes,  and  misery,  which  the  ear  of  the 
revered  priest  has  never  been  permitted  to  hear.  Freely, 
fully,  and  without  so  much  as  the  shadow  of  the  fear  of 
betrayal,  the  prostrated  sufferer  takes  the  first  convenient 
opportunity  of  revealing  in  detail  the  corrupt  workings 
of  that  society,  in  which  diseases  more  painful  than  any 
bodily  affliction  continually  assail  mankind. 

It  is  manifestly  the  first  duty  of  the  physician  to  study 
his  patient's  malady,  and  administer  such  remedial  agents 
as  will  deaden  and  destroy  suffering,  and  sustain  the  vital 
principle,  without  diminishing  the  constitutional  systolic 
and  diastolic  movements  of  the  heart. 

The  author  of  the  famous  practice  called  mesmerism 
taught  his  proselytes  to  overcome  disease  by  manipulation 
and  the  exercise  of  will.  Instead  of  administering  the 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  7 

usual  remedies,  the  physician  who  saved  the  life  of  the 
patient  (whose  name  and  condition  will  hereafter  be 
disclosed)  employed  the  so-called  potent  influence  of  mag 
netism,  by  which  her  broken  heart  was  empowered  to 
continue  its  pulsations,  thus  gradually  restoring  her 
beautiful  person  to  perfect  health  and  its  blessings,  and 
eventually  resulting  in  a  wonderful  career. 

It  was  during  the  slow  process  of  a  recuperative  con 
valescence  that  the  physician  deeply  investigated  the 
secret  causes  of  certain  crimes,  which  come  forth,  disap 
pear,  and  again  reappear  in  families.  He  was  led  to 
observe  how  sudden  mental  emotions  of  the  mother, 
ere  her  child  had  seen  the  light,  either  increased  or 
diminished  the  molecular  formation  and  development  of 
the  several  portions  of  the  cerebral  structures  in  her 
offspring.  He  demonstrated,  to  his  own  satisfaction  at 
least,  that  the  tendency  of  the  vital  forces  to  the  brain, 
or  to  other  parts  of  the  organic  structure,  was  determined 
by  the  mother  during  the  critical  period  of  gestation; 
and,  furthermore,  that  such  determination  was  accom 
plished  far  more  through  the  potent  instrumentality  of  her 
thoughts  and  feelings  than  by  any  peculiar  condition  or 
abnormal  predilections  of  the  nerve-forces  in  her  physical 
system. 

Moreover,  finally,  and  in  short :  he  found  that,  by 
this  mysterious  and  immutable  law  of  phreno-electrotyp- 
ing,  so  to  call  it,  which  is  outwrought  on  the  sensitive 
surfaces  of,  and  by  the  means  of  the  psycho-dynamical 
forces  at  work  within  the  unborn  brain,  the  offspring 
could,  and  absolutely  does,  mentally  inherit  a  predisposi 
tion  to  particular  vices  and  crimes,  as  easily  as  to  be  born 
with  cross-eyes,  red-hair,  far-sightedness,  stammering, 
deafness  and  dumbness,  cutaneous  diseases,  scrofula,  and 
consumption.  On  this  principle  he  traced  out  the  causes 
why  some  children  are  born  with  finely  molded  limbs 


8  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN". 

and  attractive  personal  manners,  while  others  come  "  into 
this  breathing  world"  replete  with  every  imaginable 
physical  imperfection. 

And  these  observations  and  conclusions,  combined 
with  the  earnest  and  inspiring  solicitations  of  his  es 
teemed  professional  friends,  have  determined  him  to  write 
out  the  following  tale — which  is  far  more  wonderful  than 
fiction — illustrating  (1.)  the  origin  of  the  seeds  of  crime, 
(2.)  the  blossoming  of  crime's  tree,  and  (3.)  the  harvest 
of  whirlwinds  which  come  as  the  fruits  of  crime. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"All  before  us  lies  the  way;  give  the  past  unto  the  wind." — Old 
Play. 

CAPTAIN  JACQUES  DEL  AKAGONT  was  of  a  noble  family, 
and  had  displayed  great  skill  and  courage  in  warfare. 

But  he  experienced  exquisite  pleasure  in  pursuing 
genealogical  studies.  At  least  this  was  his  profession. 
He  said  he  delighted  more  particularly  in  tracing  out  the 
parental  and  maternal  links  in  the  chain  of  his  own 
origin. 

With  great  apparent  satisfaction  he  found  himself 
maternally  related  to  a  distinguished,  fearless  Spanish 
officer — the  special  favorite  of  Fernando  Cortez — one 
Bernal  Castillo,  who  accompanied  the  great  chieftain's 
expedition  to  South  America  in  the  sixteenth  century; 
and  his  enthusiasm  was  not  less  when  he  found  that  his 
blood  was  paternally  derived  from  the  noble  families  of 
which  the  latest  distinguished  member  was  Baron  De 
Carondelet,  who,  some  ten  years  before  the  transfer  of 
Louisiana  to  the  United  States,  had  made  his  mark  by 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  9 

multiplying  improvements  in  the  Crescent  City,  by  which 
commerce  and  general  prosperity  acquired  a  new  im 
petus.  Carondelet's  administration  was  an  unfailing 
topic  of  eloquent  and  vehement  discourse  with  Captain 
Ai'agoni ;  and  he  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  impressing 
all  listeners  with  the  clear  and  important  fact  that  he 
was  a  near  relative  of  that  distinguished  governor. 
"Whether  all  this  was  true  or  not  the  writer  does  not 
know. 

Although  pardonably  vain  of  his  maternally  Spanish 
and  paternally  French  origin,  on  which  relationship  he 
based  all  his  claims  to  promotion  in  the  army,  still  Cap 
tain  Aragoni  was,  on  his  own  merits,  a  gentleman  of  more 
than  ordinary  personal  beauty,  intelligence,  and  military 
courage.  While  he  was  by  mental  inheritance  jealous, 
irritable,  impulsive,  and  even  cruelly  revengeful  when 
under  sufficient  temptation ;  yet  on  the  other  side — that 
part  of  his  character  which  he  scrupulously  presented  to 
his  associates — he  displayed  the  most  agreeable  gener 
osity,  and  the  most  attractive  deportment.  One  thing 
must  not  be  overlooked.  He  was  uniformly  popular  with 
citizens,  with  companions  of  equal  rank,  and  with  even 
his  most  inferior  subordinates  in  the  army. 

He  could  easily  condescend  to  fellowship  with  persons 
far  below  him  in  every  walk  of  life.  This  was  more 
remarked  than  any  other  trait  in  his  character.  Indeed 
this  distinguishing  peculiarity  had  been  in  former  years  a 
source  of  deep  concern  to  the  better  class  of  his  acquaint 
ances. 

Although  proud,  even  to  vanity,  of  his  ancestry,  and 
although  reserved  and  dignified  when  commanding  in 
the  field,  still  at  other  times,  and  under  difierent  circum 
stances  and  inducements,  he  would  seek  the  society  of 
disreputable  men,  gamblers,  and  sailors;  but  notwith 
standing  the  multifarious  temptations  which  surrounded 
1* 


10  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

and  beset  him  like  demons  whenever  associated  with 
such  characters,  he  was  never  known  (though  he  was 
often  suspected)  to  depart  into  the  forbidden  regions 
of  profanity,  intemperance,  sensuality,  or  other  vices  and 
crimes  peculiar  to  that  class  of  individuals. 

His  friends  and  admirers,  therefore,  at  length  some 
what  yielded  their  natural  and  justifiable  solicitude  for 
his  morals.  But  they  could  not  resist  feelings  of  morti 
fication  when,  in  violation  of  the  laws  of  his  professed 
noble  blood,  and  contrary  to  all  the  proprieties  of  his 
social  standing,  he  would  spend  day  after  day,  and  night 
after  night,  in  the  company  of  known  desperate  game 
sters  and  undisguised  villains. 

N"o  one  ever  attempted  to  account  for  this  conspicuous 
and  alarming  paradox  in  the  character  of  Captain  Ara- 
goni.  Any  educated  physician,  however,  who  compre 
hended  somewhat  of  the  philosophy  of  hereditary  im 
pressment,  through  the  ante-natal  feelings  and  thoughts 
of  the  mother,  as  already  suggested,  could  have  cleared 
up  the  mystery.  He  would  have  detected  a  certain  hor 
rible  and  wretched  event  in  his  mother's  biography,  and 
connected  it  with  the  subsequent  development  of  this 
alarming  inconsistency  in  the  mental  organization  of  the 
otherwise  unexceptionable,  dignified,  and  distinguished 
descendant  of  Castillo  and  Carondelet. 


CHAPTER    III. 

"Grace  was  in  all  her  steps,  heaven  in  her  eyes; 
In  every  gesture  dignity  and  love." — Milton. 

Is  1820,  Captain  Aragoni  was  married  to  the  very 
young  and  beautiful  grand-daughter  of  the  tourist  and 


PLANTING   THE   SEEDS   OF   CRIME.  H 

writer,  Charlevoix.  The  wedding-day  was  made  mem 
orable  by  extraordinary  celebrations  and  mutual  re 
joicings.  It  was  a  brilliant  affair.  The  French  and 
Spanish  officers,  di'essed  in  their  gay  uniforms,  and  the 
elite  of  the  city  graced  the  occasion. 

The  youthful  bride,  only  in  her  seventeenth  year,  was 
a  French  Creole  of  surpassing  personal  attractions.  Hers 
was  a  round,  rosy,  sweet,  lovable  face — the  face  of  a  pet 
daughter — blooming  fiill  of  tender  affections.  There  was, 
however,  in  her  large  dark-brown  eyes  an  expression  of 
thoughtful  earnestness.  Did  it  not  indicate  a  latent 
richness  of  character  ?  Did  it  not  plainly  assert  that  she 
was  capable  of  a  life  deeper  and  fuller  than  she  had  yet 
lived  ?  Behold  her  about  to  become  a  bride !  an  affec 
tionate  and  confiding  creature.  She  is  a  perfect  beauty, 
dressed  tastefully,  and  in  the  fullness  of  the  Parisian 
styles  which  then  prevailed  among  the  fashionables  of 
the  Crescent  City.  Behold  her — an  only  and  over-indulged 
child,  just  entering  upon  married  life,  arrayed  by  nature 
in  all  the  sweetness  and  purity  of  maidenly  youth  and 
beauty !  Beautiful  image  of  innocence,  love,  and  grace  ! 

Her  education  embraced  all  the  fashionable  accom 
plishments  of  the  period.  She  had  been  reared  in 
affluence — her  every  want  and  every  wish  had  been 
supplied  to  excess.  Thus  she  had  been  joyfully  dancing 
round-dances  all  the  way  from  the  cradle  up.  Like  a 
happy  child,  she  bestowed  freely  upon  every  thing  the 
freshness  of  her  spring-time.  She  pictured  and  beauti 
fully  tinted  every  face  with  the  ruddy  glow  of  the 
morning  of  her  loving  life.  She  thus  far  possessed  a 
heart  and  a  brain  as  young  and  spontaneous  as  her  years. 
Unknown  to  the  trials  and  cares  which  develop  and 
discipline  character,  she  was  ignorant  of  that  sublime 
sorrow  which  unfolds  in  the  heart  a  deepened  force  of 
intuition  and  affection.  She  knew  nothing:  of  the  won- 


12  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

drous  import  of  the  simple  words — patience,  self-forget- 
fulness,  devotion,  self-control,  and  wisdom.  These  high 
moral  mysteries  were  all  unknown  to  her — the  only  child 
of  wealthy  and  indulgent  parents. 

The  gallant  and  gorgeously  dressed  captain  was  a  few 
years  her  senior. 

Now  behold  him,  about  to  become  a  bridegroom — 
tall,  stately,  dignified,  and  commanding.  Do  you  not 
admire  the  perfect  symmetry  of  form  and  feature  ?  Has 
not  Dame  Nature  stamped  him  as  a  personage  of  remark 
able  talent  and  distinction?  How  perfectly  agreeable  in 
his  appearance  and  manners !  See  the  vivacity  and 
elegance  of  his  expressive  countenance !  Pie  has  a  rather 
vain,  yet  military  walk.  And  it  is  also  true  that  he  has 
a  piquant  and  retreating  chin.  Possibly  this  slight  defect 
is  indicative  of  the  paradox  in  his  apparently  unblemished 
character. 

Here  we  ought  to  observe  the  curious  fact  that  he  was 
never  known  to  have  any  relatives  in  the  city.  His  most 
valued  and  chiefest  acquaintances  and  associates  were,  to 
all  appearance,  mainly  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  army. 
He  pretended  to  only  amuse  himself  with  the  disreputable 
habitues  of  the  ale-houses  and  gambling-saloons  in  the 
cellars  and  in  the  faubourgs.  He  professed  to  have  im 
mense  sums  of  money  at  his  command.  He  attributed 
his  position  in  the  army  to  motives  of  patriotism.  Thus, 
on  all  occasions,  he  unfailingly  gave  every  one  the  dis 
tinct  and  unquestioning  impression  that  he  was  a  gentle 
man  of  noble  blood  and  large  wealth. 

But  only  the  confiding,  the  passionate,  the  infatuated 
creole  beauty  believed  every  thing  he  said  of  himself 
He  possessed,  and  was  rapidly  consuming  her  heart. 
What  a  rich  treasure  for  a  gallant  captain  !  For  months, 
indeed  ever  since  the  night  of  his  first  introduction  to 
her  at  her  father's  house,  he  had  pursued  her.  At  first 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF   CRIME.  13 

his  attentions  alarmed  and  annoyed  her ;  then,  suddenly, 
the  whole  love  of  her  passionate  heart  flowed  like  a  river 
toward  him.  They  sailed  thus  into  the  marriage  rela 
tion. 

The  opulent  and  indulgent  parents  of  the  lovely  bride 
were  residents  of  the  Faubourg  Lafayette,  only  a  short 
drive  from  the  city.  They  occupied  a  sort  of  Gothic 
castellated  mansion.  There  was  a  carriage-way  and  gate 
opening  from  the  front  back  into  a  spacious  court.  This 
court  was  nearly  surrounded  by  the  grand  dwelling  and 
the  lesser  buildings  of  the  estate.  There  were  extensive 
stables,  a  showy  coach-house,  washing  cabins,  a  hennery, 
a  dove-cot,  and  a  flower  garden.  A  part  of  this  inclosed 
court  was  tastefully  laid  out  in  shaded  walks.  There 
were  also  beds  of  flowers,  and  grove-like  thickets  of 
beautiful  vines  and  shrubbery. 

Now  it  must  be  confessed  just  here  that  this  Don 
Calvo  Marigny — the  father  of  the  youthful  bride — was 
notorious  as  a  man  of  ungovernable  passions.  In  con* 
jugal  affairs  he  was  simply  a  pleasure-seeking,  easy-going 
libertine.  One  bright  May  morning  a  basket,  seemingly 
full  of  grocery  packages,  was  left  at  his  front  door.  The 
colored  servant  opened  it  and  found  a  fine  baby,  crying 
like  any  other  hungry  infant,  with  a  pretty  note  pinned 
on  its  bosom,  cordially  presenting  the  little  treasure  to 
Don  Calvo  Marigny.  This  was  neither  the  first  nor  the 
last  event  of  this  nature  at  the  faubourg  mansion.  The 
offended  and  mortified  Dona  only  unmercifully  chastised 
the  slave  for  what  she  called  his  stupid  impertinence. 
This  baby,  like  the  other  babies,  was  presented  to  the 
Ursuline  Hospital. 

The  passionate  Don  was  cruel  in  visiting  punishment 
upon  the  disobedient  servants  of  his  household.  This 
privilege  was  granted  by  the  laws  of  slavery.  But  as  a 
full-blooded  and  discriminate  libertine — as  an  element  of 


14:  TALE   OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

contamination  and  destruction  in  society — he  was  the 
most  dangerous,  the  most  artful,  and  the  most  successful. 
His  reputation  for  unbridled  profligacy,  and  for  wanton 
indulgence,  was  only  eclipsed  by  Pierpont  Edwards. 
The  latter  had  flourished  as  a  despoiler  not  long  before 
in  the  city  of  New  York. 

Of  all  this,  however,  the  innocent  and  beautiful  Sophia 
knew  nothing.  Like  most  libertines  of  wrealth  and  social 
standing,  the  aristocratic  Don  insisted  that  his  daughter 
should  grow  a  model  of  propriety  and  virtue.  He  highly 
respected  virtue  in  his  daughter,  and  had  her  educated 
in  the  convent. 

But  Captain  Aragoni  had  long  known  Don  Marigny 
as  a  votary  of  pleasure.  They  were,  without  absolutely 
knowing  the  fact,  fellow-sinners. 

"  And  this  adorable,  only  child — this  charming,  bloom 
ing,  innocent  girl,"  said  Aragoni  to  himself;  "  she  is  as 
as  pure  as  her  personal  charms  are  irresistible."  After  a 
few  moments  of  reflection,  he  added — "  And  she  is  sole 
heiress  to  the  immensely  rich  Marigny  estates !" 
"*  Alas,  this  last  consideration  took  a  paramount  position 
among  the  motives  of  Aragoni.  Under  its  powerful 
influence,  superadded  to  the  madness  of  passion,  he 
sought  and  won  the  affections  of  the  beautiful  daughter. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  The  fountain  of  my  love  shall  feel  no  bars, 
But  ever  flowing  ever  be  at  rest." — Asphodel. 

ABOUT  the  time  appointed  for  the  marriage  there  was 
promulgated,  but  not  unexpected  by  the  gallant  captain, 
an  army  order  which  necessitated  the  presence  and  con- 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OP  CRIME.  15 

tinuance  in  the  city  of  all  the  captains  and  principal 
officers.  Not  procuring  a  furlough,  as  his  bride  had 
fondly  hoped  would  be  granted  him,  Aragoni  had  pri 
vately  hired  a  fashionable  city  residence.  He  had 
privately  superintended  every  thing.  He  had  the  rooms 
furnished  superbly  with  every  imaginable  comfort.  He 
obtained  pictures  of  French  beauties ;  pictures  of  nude 
women  for  the  chambers ;  and  of  the  athlete  and  acro 
bats  in  their  brilliant  acts.  He  had,  moreover,  obtained 
rare  and  costly  ornaments,  and  bridal  gifts  for  the  lovely 
Creole.  But  previous  to  the  wedding,  she  had  not  heard 
any  thing  of  all  this,  and  did  not  know  the  location  of 
the  residence. 

The  almost  oriental  splendors  and  brilliant  festivities 
of  the  marriage,  which  occurred  at  an  officer's  residence 
in  the  city,  continued  into  the  small  hours  of  morning. 
But  the  wedding  ceremony  transpired  at  an  early  hour  in 
the  evening. 

While  the  assembled  guests  were  in  the  excitement  of 
the  celebration,  and  when  "  a  French  leave  "  became  a 
graceful  possibility,  the  bridegi-oom  and  bride  quietly 
withdrew.  Stepping  immediately  into  a  closed  carriage, 
which  had  been  by  the  captain's  management  procured 
for  them,  they  rapidly  rolled  away  through  the  avenues 
to  their  elegantly  furnished  retirement. 

But  now  something  horrible  was  about  to  happen, 
for  which  the  deep-headed  captain  had  not  prepared. 
When  the  festivities  were  nearly  concluded,  the  arrival 
of  Don  Calvo's  coach  was  announced.  This  was  the 
exact  hour  at  which  he  had  ordered  the  old  driver  to 
appear.  The  bride's  father  and  mother  entered  their 
elegant  carriage,  and  away  sped  the  spirited  and  powerful 
horses  toward  the  Faubourg  Lafayette.  But  a  terrible 
and  fatal  accident  was  soon  to  overtake  them,  by  which 
strange  future  events  became  possible. 


16  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

The  horses  took  sudden  fright  at  some  unknown  object 
in  Esplanade  Street.  On  the  instant  springing  into  a 
furious  run,  the  old  driver  was  dashed  with  great  violence 
to  the  ground.  The  fall  fractured  his  skull,  and  rendered 
him  insensible.  The  affrighted  and  furious  animals, 
without  guidance,  and  having  nothing  in  their  way  at  so 
early  an  hour  in  the  morning,  now  more  wildly  pursued 
their  flight  through  street  after  street.  The  carriage  was 
suddenly  overturned  and  crushed.  Then  by  a  sudden 
crash  both  occupants  were  instantly  deprived  of  their 
lives.  And  'now  the  horses,  falling  into  an  excavation, 
were  stopped  and  secured  by  the  city  watchmen. 

This  happened  in  the  dead  hour  of  night.  At  this 
hour  the  inhabitants  of  a  city  are  locked  in  the  profound 
stillness  of  deep  sleep.  Hence  the  citizens  knew  nothing 
of  this  horrible  misfortune.  One  watchman,  however, 
thought  he  recognized  the  horses.  He  had  seen  them 
many  times,  and  said,  "  they  are  the  property  of  a  wealthy 
gentleman  residing  in  the  adjacent  town."  But  the 
owner's  name  he  did  not  know.  The  lacerated  and  bleed 
ing  and  lifeless  bodies — their  faces  so  torn  and  their 
features  so  disfigured — were  not  recognizable  by  any 
one.  They  were  richly  dressed.  With  respectful  and 
mournful  care  they  were  conveyed  to  the  nearest  watch- 
station.  A  messenger  from  police  head-quarters  was 
forthwith  dispatched  to  Lafayette  to  notify  the  supposed 
owner  of  the  splendid  horses.  It  was  expected  that  this 
step  would  lead  to  correct  information  regarding  the 
names  and  circumstances  of  the  distinguished  dead. 

Meanwhile,  what  of  the  young  and  beautiful  bride  ? 
She  was  sleeping  like  a  child  in  her  bridal  chamber ;  in 
the  strong  arms  of  her  darling  Captain  Aragoni ;  in  the 
bosom  of  a  dwelling  overflowing  with  glittering  richness 
and  voluptuous  beauty.  Behold  her  loving  heart.  It  is 
pulsating  harmoniously  with  tenderest  affection.  Behold 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS   OF   CRIME.  If 

her  thoughts.  Like  an  innocent  child,  she  is  dreaming 
only  of  to-morrow  and  to-morrow,  and  then  of  her  hap 
piness.  How  blissful  in  her  Eden-like  ignorance !  Hap 
pily  she  did  not  know  that,  ere  the  sun  of  the  morrow 
had  risen,  an  appalling  accident  had  made  her  an  orphan. 
Happily  she  did  not  foresee  the  future ;  neither  its  diabol 
ical  trials  nor  its  holy  triumphs. 


CHAPTER    V. 

"These  thoughts  may  startle,  but  will  not  astound, 
The  virtuous  mind,  that  ever  walks  attended 

By  a  strong-siding  champion,  Conscience. " — Anon. 

* 

THE  morning  sun  was  bathing  city,  river,  and  lake  in 
a  soft  and  luxuriant  golden  light. 

The  gallant  bridegroom  and  graceful  bride  had  break 
fasted,  and  were  together  in  the  parlor.  They  were 
standing  before  a  French  lithograph,  examining  and 
admiring  its  beauties,  when  suddenly  the  door-bell  was 
violently  rung.  The  captain's  confidential  body-servant 
answered  it.  He  returned,  and  whispering  so  that  the 
lady  could  not  hear,  said : — 

"  Joudre  and  three  strangers  request  your  presence  at 
the  door." 

Aragoni's  dark  eyes  suddenly  lighted  up  and  flashed 
with  a  troubled  and  hideous  glare.  His  hand  trembled 
slightly,  and  his  voice  faltered  for  a  moment,  as  though 
he  saw  before  him  some  dreadful  evil.  But  he  controlled 
himself  immediately,  and  gracefully  begged  his  bride's 
pardon;  then  he  hastily  walked  from  her  side  to  the 
street-door. 

"Ah,  Joudre  ?    Who  are  these  strangers  with  you?" 


18  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

The  three  men  retired  a  little,  and  a  rapid  conversation 
in  whisper-tones  commenced  between  Aragoni  and  the 
leading  man  whom  he  had  addressed. 

The  captain  then  led  the  way  to  the  parlor.  He  intro 
duced  Joudre  and  the  strangers  to  his  lovely  wife.  But 
his  voice  and  manners  were  cold  and  commanding,  and  his 
face  was  flushed  with  rage.  It  was  evident  that  the  most 
horrible  and  revengeful  thoughts  were  rushing  through 
his  mind.  They  all  took  seats  near  the  parlor-door. 

Addressing  himself  to  Joudre,  the  captain  angrily 
asked — 

"  Now,  sir,  why  did  you  come  here,  and  why  did  you 
bring  these  unknown  men?  In  a  word — what  is  your 
business  with  me  ?" 

Joudre  smiled  sarcastically,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with 
reproach,  mixed  with  a  look  of  astonishment  and  triumph. 

The  three  strangers,  who  were  sullen  fellows,  main 
tained  complete  silence.  They  seemed  embai'rassed  in  the 
presence  of  the  trembling  young  woman.  Meanwhile, 
her  eyes  were  mutely  pleading  for  her  offended  husband ; 
but  she  was  dreadfully  agitated,  and  was  too  deeply 
alarmed  to  speak.  She  attempted  to  rise  from  the  sofa, 
and  motioned  that  she  would  retire  to  her  room. 

"Stay!"  said  the  captain,  in  a  tone  of  anger  and 
authority.  But  suddenly  remembering  himself,  he  at 
tempted  to  smile  ;  and,  addressing  her  tenderly,  he  said, 
explainingly — 

"These  men,  my  darling,  have  invaded  our  rights. 
They  are  swindlers  and  assassins.  They  have  sought  to 
intrench  themselves  in  our  residence,  and  thus  defend 
themselves  against  the  officers  of  the  law." 

Then  turning  to  Joudre,  and  looking  at  him  with  the 
imperturbable  calmness  of  a  bronze  statue,  but  with  the 
fires  of  vengeance  blazing  from  his  dark  eyes,  he  said — 

"  By  what  authority  do  you  commit  this  outrage  ?" 


PLANTING   THE   SEEDS   OF   CRIME.  19 

Joudrc,  who  was  a  short,  firmly-built,  springy  man, 
with  a  quick,  shrewd  eye,  giving  the  impression  that  his 
skill  and  vivacity  were  more  than  a  match  for  the  down 
right  strength  of  the  strongest  man,  replied  triumph 
antly — 

"  We  are  here  by  the  authority  of  George  de  Freronier !" 

The  captain  rapidly  walked  to  the  window,  and  looked 
out.  Then  he  rang  for  his  confidential  servant. 

"  Plu,"  said  he,  in  a  low,  imperative  voice,  "guard  the 
door  leading  to  the  street.  Let  no  one  enter.  Answer 
no  bells,  except  mine.  Be  quick,  Plu ! — quick  !" 

Joudre  watched  all  these  movements  with  apparent 
indifference.  The  three  men  seemed  immovable. 

But  the  beautiful  young  bride — the  loving  and.  confid 
ing  Sophia — terrified  and  shrieking  with  alarm,  sprang 
forward,  and  threw  herself  upon  her  husband's  arm,  just 
as  he  was  drawing  his  sword. 

At  this  the  three  strangers  simultaneously  rose  to  their 
feet,  stepped  toward  Aragoni,  and  seemed  about  to  arrest 
him,  when  all  were  suddenly  startled  by  the  rapid  ringing 
of  the  door-bell. 

But  Plu  stood  guard  in  the  hall.  He  had  locked  and 
bolted  the  street-door.  Again  and  again  the  bell  was 

o  o 

vigorously  rung  ;  but  Plu,  knowing  his  master's  temper 
when  in  the  least  his  orders  were  disobeyed,  heard  the 
ringing,  but  made  no  movement  to  answer  it. 

Aragoni  hurriedly  released  himself  from  the  clinging 
embrace  of  his  terrified  wife,  and  quickly  making  a 
signal  to  her  to  follow  him,  fled  up-stairs  with  the  speed 
of  a  fugitive  from  slavery. 

She  immediately  followed  him  to  their  bridal  chamber, 
so  beautifully  furnished  with  every  conceivable  comfort 
and  luxury.  Copies  of  the  best  French  and  German 
lithographs,  and  rare  pictm-es  of  Italian  and  Spanish 
scenes,  and  faces  of  renowned  military  officers,  and 


20  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

engravings  of  memorable  battles,  hung  in  admirable 
clusters  upon  the  walls.  The  fragrance  of  orange  blos 
soms  loaded  the  balmy  air,  and  a  soft,  dreamy  luxuriance 
rested  upon  every  thing. 

"When  the  Creole  bride  entered  their  chamber  her  fright 
and  agony  were  indescribable.  Before  the  curtained  win 
dow,  overlooking  the  Mississippi  River,  stood  the  tall, 
stately,  dignified  captain.  His  face  was  now  a  perfect 
picture  of  miserable  disappointment  and  reckless  despair. 
His  eyes  roamed  wildly  about.  He  looked  away  toward 
the  distant  extensive  swamp,  which  was  densely  covered 
with  cypress-trees  and  tangled  thickets  of  underbrush, 
making  a  suitable  province  for  alligators  and  other  rep 
tiles  peculiar  to  that  latitude.  His  hand  firmly  grasped 
the  handle  of  his  pistol.  It  was  evident  that  the  solu 
tion  of  some  terrible  problem  was  struggling  in  his  mind. 
He  surveyed  the  country  in  every  direction ;  then  the 
lake  on  the  left ;  and  the  mighty  river,  on  the  crescent- 
like  bank  of  which  the  city  was  built.  He  gazed  rapidly, 
wildly;  but  with  silence  that  was  fearful. 

"  My  husband  !  my  husband  !"  she  cried,  throwing  her 
white  arms  around  him  in  an  agony  of  passionate  grief. 
Breathless,  panting,  yet  filled  with  the  divine  strength 
of  love  for  her  suffering  husband,  she  continued — 

"  Who  are  these  terrible  strangers,  my  darling  ?  Why 
do  you  flee  from  them  ?  Oh,  where  will  you  go  ?  Can 
they  harm  us  ?  Oh,  speak,  my  darling,  speak — can  these 
dreadful  strangers  harm  us  ?" 

Stopping  but  for  a  moment  to  breathe,  she  pleadingly 
and  passionately  continued — "  Pray,  who  is  the  George 
de  Freronier,  by  whose  authority  these  dreadful  men 
dare  enter  these  sacred  premises  ?" 

Aragoni  breathed  deeply.  Resuming  as  far  as  possible 
his  accustomed  attractive  manners  and  tender  voice,  he 
replied — "  We  are  prisoners,  rny  adorable  Sophia — pris- 


PLANTING   THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  21 

oners,  I  fear,  in  our  own  house !  These  wretches  are 
vultures  come  to  devour  our  treasures.  They  are  brig 
ands  and  hired  assassins — come  to  rob  us,  before  our 
very  eyes,  and  covering  their  villainy  by  the  audacity  of 
charging  upon  our  works  in  open  day." 

Her  large,  beautiful  eyes  flashed  with  passionate  indig 
nation.  She  sprang  forward,  with  a  feverish  convulsive 
movement,  put  her  head  out  the  opened  window  and 
screamed — 

"Murder!  murder!  watch!  watch!  rescue!  rescue! 
rescue !"  in  such  rapid  succession  as  to  throw  the  captain 
completely  off  his  guard.  But  in  the  next  moment  he 
clasped  his  hand  firmly  over  her  pretty  mouth,  and  said 
sternly — 

"  Silence !  my  God,  would  you  betray  us  ?  Silence  ! 
or  we  shall  be  separated  forever  1" 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  The  shock  that  hurled 

To  dust,  in  many  fragments  dashed  and  strown, 
The  throne  whose  roots  were  in  another  world, 
And  whose  far-stretching  shadow  awed  our  own." 

Bryant. 

AT  his  last  words  the  beautiful  Creole  bride  sank  on 
the  floor  at  his  feet.  Her  eyes  were  closed ;  a  cold  per 
spiration  covered  her  face ;  and  it  seemed  that  her  breath 
ing  had  forever  ceased.  She  made  no  sign  of  life.  He 
raised  her  tenderly,  and  carried  her  in  his  strong  arms 
and  laid  her  quietly  in  the  richly  ornamental  hammock, 
which  was  deliciously  perfumed,  and  suspended  across 
the  opposite  side  of  the  spacious  chamber. 


22  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

Then  he  rang  the  bell;  and  Plu  (whose  name  in  full 
was  Plutarch)  appeared.  "Your  mistress  has  fainted 
with  fright.  Bid  her  maid  come  instantly  and  attend 
her.  At  once,  Plu — march  !" 

"Now,"  said  Captain  Aragoni  to  himself,  "I  must 
forthwith  and  forever  dispose  of  that  villainous  crew." 

He  walked  deliberately  down-stairs  and  entered  the 
parlor.  Joudre  arose  and  advanced  to  meet  him.  Their 
eyes  met.  The  fires  of  destruction  blazed  afresh  in  their 
flushed  faces. 

"  George  de  Freronier,"  said  Joudre,  deliberately  and 
disdainfully,  addressing  Captain  Jacques  del  Aragoni, 
"  You  have  led  me  into  deep  water  this  time ;  now  I  swear, 
do  you  hear  that,  sir  ? — I  say  I  swear  that  you  shall  help 
me  out." 

"  Never  fear,"  replied  the  captain  in  a  conciliatory  tone. 
"  You  must,  however,  promptly  obey  my  orders ;  and 
that,  too,  to  the  very  letter,  or  all  will  be  lost." 

Joudre  smiled  scornfully  and  defiantly,  and  said,  "  Oh  ! 
is  that  all  ?  Do  you  take  me  for  a  damned  blind  idiot, 
George  de  Freronier?"  And  the  man's  eyes  looked 
fiercely.  "  Look  you  here  :  look  at  me !  You  see  in 
me  a  poor  worthless  devil  dressed  in  the  borrowed  clothes 
of  a  gentleman !  Come  now,  captain,  no  more  masks 
between  us.  I  swear  this  devilish  plot  has  gone  far 
enough — far  enough — far  enough,  sir ;  I  swear — do  you 
understand  me  ?  I  sicear  !  and  when  I  swear,  I  swear  I 
mean  it." 

The  expression  of  the  countenance  of  the  bridegroom 
was  stern  and  menacing ;  yet  there  w^as  in  it  a  shade  of 
sadness,  mingled  with  anxiety  and  terror. 

"  Joudre,"  said  the  captain  calmly,  making  an  effort  to 
appear  absolutely  indifferent  to  any  imaginable  con 
sequences  that  might  result  from  opposition  to  the  for 
midable  company  before  him — "  Joudre  !  do  you  forget 


PLANTING    THE   SEEDS   OP   CRIME.  23 

that  /  saved  your  life,  at  a  moment  when  you  counted  it 
as  good  as  lost  ?  Do  you  forget  that  but  for  me  and  the 
brave  soldiers  under  my  command,  you  would  be  this 
hour  in  a  French  bastile — down  the  back  stairs  of  that 
old  raven-nest  in  Paris — groping  your  way  to  death  and 
the  grave  through  the  subterranean  passages  of  that  old 
palace  ?  Now,  you  ungrateful,  swearing  fellow !  mark 
what  I  say,  and  prepare  you  to  execute  on  the  instant  all 
the  orders  I  shall  transmit  you;  or" — and  here  the  cap 
tain  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  threw  back  his 
manly  shoulders,  and  spoke  like  one  accustomed  to 
threaten  and  command — 

"  Or  what  ?"  interrupted  Joudre  defiantly. 

"  Or,"  replied  the  captain  deliberately,  "  there  will  be 
disturbance  and  bloodshed  in  your  lodgings." 

The  three  strangers,  who  during  all  this  time  had  stood 
silent  and  inactive,  now  began  to  show  that  they  were 
terrified  spectators. 

Joudre  shrugged  his  shoulders  deprecatingly  and  de 
spairingly,  in  the  true  French  style  of  gesture,  and  said, 
"  I  swear,  captain,  I  have  a  thousand  times  wished  my 
self  dead ;  and  I  have  a  thousand  times  cursed  the  day 
you  saved  my  life.  This  devilish  life  you  saved  me — 
this  cursed  life — is  not  worth  the  having.  I  swear  I 
would  this  minute  freely  give  it  to  the  alligators  in  yon 
swamp,  if — " 

"If  you  was  not  afraid  of  hell  and  its  everlasting 
torments,"  interrupted  the  captain. 

Joudre  was  silent.  A  far  worthier  thought  occupied 
his  mind.  He  was  thinking  of  a  beloved  old  mother 
living  a  few  hundred  miles  up  the  Mississippi,  to  whom 
he  had  occasionally  sent  money  and  little  presents.  He 
had  tried  to  make  her  declining  years  more  comfortable. 
In  her  opinion,  Joudre  was  a  kind-hearted,  industrious 
laborer  on  the  levees  and  fortifications  of  N"ew  Orleans. 


24        .  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

These  filial  and  worthy  thoughts  struggled  through 
his  miserable  brain.  While  revolving  these  feelings  a 
shudder  ran  through  him  from  head  to  foot.  Big  tears 
trembled  on  his  eyelids.  Those  tears  were  brilliant  and 
beautiful  with  the  light  of  a  soul  destined  for  better 
worlds.  But  he  returned  no  answer  to  the  imperious  and 
threatening  language  of  the  captain. 

"  Where's  the  knife  I  handed  you  before  you  started 
for  the  Faubourg  Lafayette  ?"  angrily  demanded  Aragoni. 

"I  know  not,"  replied  Joudre  in  despair.  "I  sup 
pose  it  was  dropped  in  the  inclosed  court  behind  the 
Marigny  mansion." 

"I'll  wager  a  hundred  francs  that  you  are  lying," 
said  the  captain,  with  ill-concealed  uneasiness.  He 
dreaded  the  possibility  of  detection.  The  discovery  of 
his  plot  would  result  in  the  immediate  overthrow  of  his 
situation  and  advantages.  Betraying  little  or  no  anxiety, 
however,  he  asked  indifferently — "  Why  did  you  lie  con 
cealed  all  night  in  the  vine-thickets  behind  the  mansion  ? 
A  very  shaky  soldier,  you !  Why  did  you  not  advance 
your  skirmish  line,  and  then  drive  your  whole  force  into 
the  enemy's  treasures  ?  Your  time  for  attack  was  while 
the  rich  Don  and  his  wife  were  feasting  and  celebrating 
at  their  daughter's  wedding  ?" 

"  We  were  constantly  watched,"  replied  Joudre,  sul 
lenly.  "  We  gained  our  ainbuscade  in  the  court  in  good 
order.  The  night  was  dark.  But  we  saw  something 
which  resembled  a  man  walking  to  and  fro,  rising  up, 
and  stooping  down,  and  moving  here  and  there;  and 
when  we  took  a  step  toward  the  house,  the  man  at  the 
same  instant  took  a  step  the  same  way;  when  we 
crouched,  the  man  crouched  too ;  and  this  watch  upon  us 
was  kept  up  until  almost  day-break ;  so  we  mounted  the 
ladder,  threw  our  ropes  over  the  wall,  and  made  good 
our  escape,  glad  enough  to  get  off!" 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  25 

"You  infernal  traitor!"  growled  Aragoni  fiercely — 
"You  round-headed  fugitive  from  justice!  You  crazy, 
cowardly  fool,  fit  for  galley-slavery !  You  scoundrel, 
afraid  of  your  own  shadow  !  Now  hark  ye — and  mark 
me  well,  you  cowardly  sniveler."  Here  the  captain  led 
Joudre  by  the  collar  to  the  farther  end  of  the  parlor, 
and  said :  "  At  the  dark  hour  this  very  night  I  order 
you  to  enter  the  premises  of  Don  Calvo  Marigny  in  the 
Faubourg  Lafayette.  Go  armed,  prepared !  Knock 
down  the  guard,  gag  the  servants,  make  silent  prisoners 
of  the  Don  and  his  lady;  then  procure  the  gold  and 
silver,  which  he  the  other  day  received  from  Paris  and 
from  the  Cuba  plantations;  then  convey  all  trophies 
and  confiscated  property  to  my  head-quarters !  Under 
stand  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  threatening  growl,  and  look 
ing  the  miserable  Joudre  straight  in  the  eye. 

The  poor  fellow  bowed  stupidly  and  awkwardly. 
Then  they  all  almost  mechanically  turned  into  the  hall, 
and  walked  doggedly  from  the  house  into  the  street. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

"  "We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 

Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  breast  the  wave  of  life 
Kept  heaving  to  and  fro." — Hood. 

MEANWHILE  the  alarmed  young  wife-  had  partially 
revived  from  her  swoon.  Her  industrious  maid  had 
soothed  her  and  bathed  her  beautiful  face,  and  had  fur- 
nished  her  with  all  necessary  materials  for  writing,  in 
obedience  to  her  request,  and  she  had  hurriedly  written 
a  note  as  follows : — 

2 


26  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

ARAGONI  HOTEL,  NEW  ORLEANS,  LA.,  October,  1820. 
PARENTS,  BEST  £ELOVED: — 

Come  to  me  without  waiting  a  moment  to  ask  why.  I'm  dying  with 
a  dreadful  fright  I  I  can  not  live  but  a  few  brief  moments  longer  I  I 
know  I  am  dying!  Oh,  do,  do,  do  come  at  once  I  Bring  Father 
Malarm ;  for  I  am  exhausted  and  fatigued,  and  I  must  die  in  a  very  few 
minutes.  Oh,  do  come,  and  bring  the  holy  father! 

Your  own  dying 

SOPHIA. 

Unhappy  girl !  A  bride  not  yet  twenty-four  hours  old. 
But  already  the  great  round  world  was  seemingly  re 
ceding  from  her.  So  delicate,  so  dependent,  so  caress 
ingly  affectionate,  and  so  inexperienced !  These  sudden 
trials  were  both  overwhelming  and  mysterious.  She  felt 
that  in  a  few  hours  more  her  eyes  would,  behold  the 
throne  of  her  Heavenly  Father. 

Pier  entire  education,  it  will  be  recollected,  had  been 
under  the  management  of  the  Roman  Catholic  authorities 
of  the  Crescent  City.  The  prioress,  the  mothers,  and  the 
sisters  of  the  Convent  of  St.  Mary  had  often  knelt  at  the 
same  altar  with  our  beautiful  Creole  bride  ;  she  was  ten 
derly  beloved  by  them.  They  had  often  consulted  together 
after  each  confession,  and  she  had  scrupulously  paid  all 
the  penalties  they  announced  against  her.  They  remem 
bered  that  her  sins  were  never  serious ;  they  were  faults, 
rather ;  such  as  tardiness  at  prayers,  tearing  her  veil,  care 
lessly  soiling  her  garments,  breaking  some  little  piece  of 
china  or  glass,  or  dancing  a  few  steps  when  walking  to 
church.  Her  voice,  too,  was  sweet  and  thrilling  in  song. 
In  the  convent  church  her  perfect  soprano  voice  attracted 
thronging  multitudes,  and  every  one  was  chai-med.  She 
was  beloved  by  prioress,  by  mothers,  by  nuns,  by  novices, 
and  by  all  who  sought  to  have  the  love  of  Jesus  en 
kindled  in  their  hearts.  In  her  suffering,  therefore,  she 
yearned  for  the  companions  of  her  innocent  girlhood,  and 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS   OF   CRIME.  27 

she  called  loudly  in  her  agony  upon  holy  Father  Malarm. 
Pictures  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  of  the  Infant  Jesus, 
and  precious  prints  of  saints,  by  the  old  masters,  afforded 
her  indescribable  relief.  Over  and  over  again  she  kissed 
the  holy  golden  cross  that  was  suspended  from  her 
beautiful  neck,  and  over  and  over  again  she  told  her 
prayers  upon  the  rosary  which  the  good  father  had 
given  her.  So  the  moments  slipped  by  as  she,  still  pros 
trated  with  fright  and  fatigue,  endeavored  to  wait  tho 
slow  coming  of  her  parents. 


'CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  In  soul  or  face  she  bears  no  trace 

Of  one  from  Edeii  driven, 
But,  like  the  rainbow,  seems,  though  born 

Of  earth,  a  part  of  heaven." — Gco.  Hill. 

f 

ALL  things,  so  far,  had  worked  diametrically  opposite 
to  the  designs  of  the  arch-impostor,  Captain  Aragoni. 
He  was,  consequently,  furious  with  anger,  and  discon 
certed  by  unlooked-for  disappointments.  On  all  public 
occasions  he  had  represented  himself  as  the  descendant  of 
a  noble  and  great  family,  and,  perhaps,  not  without  some 
truth  at  bottom.  He  had  heard  many  comrades  at  "  head 
quarters"  predict  that  he  would  be  known  in  a  few  years 
as  a  great  military  genius;  but  already  he  was  surrounded, 
out-generaled,  and  in  despair.  His  exasperation  had 
thrown  him  off  his  balance  in  the  presence  of  his  lovely 
wife ;  and  thus  it  seemed  that,  for  a  time,  in  his  affairs, 
the  "reign  of  terror"  had  absolutely  begun.  It  was 
never  his  way  to  utter  either  coarse  or  indecent  things 
in  the  presence  of  women.  He  invariably  conducted 


28  TALE   OP  A   PHYSICIAN. 

himself  with  inexpressible  coolness,  and  with  a  dignity 
and  self-regulated  energy  truly  becoming  his  professed 
noble  ancestry  and  official  importance  in  the  army. 

When  Joudre  and  the  three  strangers  (who  were,  in 
fact,  very  well-known  accomplices)  had  left  the  house, 
Aragoni  hurriedly  paced  the  drawing-room  to  and  fro  in 
furious  excitement.  The  failure  of  the  men  in  their 
attempt  to  rob  the  Marigny  mansion,  while  the  heads  of 
the  family  were  at  the  wedding,  and  the  effrontery  of 
their  unexpected  appearance  and  conduct  at  his  residence, 
in  broad,  open  day,  contrary  to  his  express  orders,  which 
they  had  never  before  dared  to  transgress,  threw  him 
into  a  passion  of  anger,  mingled  with  conflicting  thoughts 
of  either  suicide  or  murderous  revenge. 

At  length,  however,  he  arrived  at  a  satisfactory  under 
standing  with  himself,  and  so  succeeded  in  regaining  his 
accustomed  tranquillity  and  imperturbable  coolness, 
which  was  really  elegant ;  then  he  ventured  to  call  upon 
his  distracted  wife,  whom  he  had  left  but  an  hour  before 
prostrated  in  a  deadly  "swoon,  and  in  charge  of  her  maid. 

She  was  reposing  on  the  bridal  bed,  trembling  and 
pale  as  death;  her  eyes  were  closed.  He  cautiously 
approached,  and  leaned  over  to  look  at  her  beautiful 
white  face — a  picture  of  maidenly  beauty — her  luxuriant 
hair  falling  in  graceful  curls  upon  the  snowy  pillow.  His 
hard  and  sinful  heart  wavered  a  little  painfully ;  he  felt 
that  it  throbbed  with  suddenly  awakened  emotions  of 
sincere  sympathy  for  the  beautiful  victim.  He  seemed 
to  see  and  to  feel  the  vast  chasm  which  divided  them — 
she  an  angel,  he  a  veritable  devil.  The  contrast  shocked 
him.  He  saw  himself  to  be  a  gambler,  a  libertine,  a 
bandit,  an  adventurer.  He  saw  that  she  was  a  beautiful, 
sweet  singing-bird  of  heaven.  He  regarded  himself  as  a 
vulture,  in  the  garb  of  an  honorable  gentleman,  dishonor 
ing  and  crushing  the  heart  of  an  innocent  child. 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  29 

She  opened  her  eyes  upon  him  while  these  horrible 
thoughts  were  rushing  through  his  mind. 

A  soft,  loving  light  gathered  in  her  large  eyes,  but 
there  was  a  wandering  look  in  them.  She  said,  raising 
her  hand  slowly  toward  his  face — "Oh,  good  Father 
Malarm — you  have  come  !  Oh,  merciful  heavens  !  save 
me  !  save  me  !" 

Aragoni  groaned  with  intense  anguish.  Then  with 
the  utmost  tenderness  of  expression,  he  said — 

"  We  are  alone  now,  my  darling  wife ;  the  robbers  are 
gone,  and  we  are  safe.  Fear  nothing." 

A  strange,  protracted  silence  ensued. 

Suddenly  she  burst  out  laughing  in  hysterical  raptures. 
"Oh,"  she  shouted,  "  I  thought  I  was  on  the  brink  of  the 
Mississippi  River ;  and  I  was  going  to  jump  in,  and  sink 
forever  under  the  waters ;  but  good  Father  Malarm  came 
and  put  his  arm  around  my  waist,  and  I  was  saved! 
Good  Father  Malarm,  I  thank  God  and  you." 

Again  her  laughter  became  uncontrollable.  "Oh,  it 
was  such  amusement !"  she  cried — "  such  pleasure !" 


CHAPTER    IX. 

"  The  wisdom  that  overlooketh  sense, 
The  clairvoyance  of  innocence." — Dial. 

THIS  tumultuous  and  irresistible  laughter,  and  this 
singular  language  from  the  lips  of  the  prostrate,  and 
pale  bride,  confused  and  annoyed  the  captain  beyond 
measure. 

She  seemed  rapidly  to  sink  into  a  deep  slumber. 

He  turned  sorrowfully  away.  His  glance  rested  upon 
the  open  note  the  distracted  girl  had  written  to  her 


30  TALE   OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

parents.  He  was  reading  it  when  she  again  opened  her 
eyes  upon  him.  She  said,  "Dispatch  my  note  to  the 
convent,  please  ;  and  tell  the  sisters  that  I  am  wretched — 
dying !  dying !" 

The  straight  and  dignified  form  of  Aragoni  was  sud 
denly  bent  forward  by  her  words,  as  if  they  had  been 
mighty  tempest  winds  driving  against  the  tallest  tree  in 
the  forest.  He  was  thoughtful.  He  walked  to  the  win 
dow,  with  the  slow,  feeble  pace  of  a  sick  man ;  and  he 
looked  abstractedly  out  upon  the  solitary  plain,  that 
swept  away  into  the  cypress  swamps  and  desolate 
marshes  beyond. 

Suddenly  he  turned  and  went  toward  her.  He  sought 
her  hand ;  she  withheld  it.  "  Lovely  Sophia  !"  said  he. 
She  looked  steadily  and  inquiringly  into  his  eyes. 

The  deathly  whiteness  of  her  face  cast  a  blanched 
light  upon  his  fine  features.  For  the  moment  he  seemed 
to  be  transformed  into  a  superior  being.  She  did  not 
know  that  the  new  beauty  and  purer  light  in  his  face 
was  a  reflection  from  her  own.  And  she  extended  to 
him  her  small,  trembling  hand. 

"  Lovely  angel !"  he  passionately  exclaimed.  "  You  can 
save  me  !  You  can  bring  me,  happiness  !  You  can — " 

She  smiled  tenderly,  compassionately  upon  him.  A 
divine  warmth  and  a  divine  light  shone  upon  her  counte 
nance  ;  and  she  began  to  sing  a  plaintive  song,  which 
filled  the  room  with  a  celestial  enchantment  like  the 
musical  breathings  of  an  angel's  bosom. 

Her  words  came  with  the  flow  of  her  breath.  It  was 
a  wondrous  improvisation.  Every  word  of  her  divine 
song  sunk  deep  into  the  heart  of  the  proud  and  wicked 
and  wretched  listener.  The  warbling  of  birds,  the  per 
fume  of  flowers,  the  sighs  of  the  evening  zephyr,  the 
prayers  of  the  repentant,  the  beams  of  stars,  the  voices  of 
angels,  the  loveliness  of  creation,  the  goodness  of  the 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  31 

Heavenly  Father — all,  by  a  mysterious  magnetic  power 
of  penetration,  entered  into  the  sonl  and  judgment  of 
the  transfixed  assassin — now  her  legal  lord  and  legal 
master.  But  lo  !  by  the  subtle  fascination  of  an  im 
perishable,  invisible  influence — which  floated  into  his  soul 
through  her  plaintive  song — he  was  internally  compelled 
to  become  her  worshiper,  her  follower,  her  subject,  and 
most  willingly  in  all  things  her  slave. 

Immediately  on  the  ending  of  her  song  she  lapsed  into 
a  deep,  unconscious  slumber. 


CHAPTER    £. 

"  Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire, 

Uttered  or  unexpressed ; 
The  motion  of  a  hidden  fire 
That  trembles  in  the  breast." — Montgomery. 

CAPTAIN  ARAGONI,  his  nature  an  empire  of  good  and 
evil,  dropped  into  a  chair  and  wept.  His  were  the  tears 
of  agony,  of  grief,  and  of  true  repentance  mingled  with 
despair.  He  prayed  to  merciful  Heaven  for  light  and 
forgiveness. 

He  had  fought  many  a  hard-contested  battle  in  the 
field ;  he  was  familiar  with  bloodshed  and  suffering  in  all 
their  forms;  he  had  from  time  to  time  inflicted  cruel 
punishment  upon  many  a  poor  wretch  for  the  slightest 
disobedience ;  but  this  new  miracle  of  love,  this  new 
magic  of  spirit,  this  new  warfare,  by  which  he  was 
made  captive,  was  beyond  his  comprehension.  It  de 
scended  upon  and  overpowered  him.  His  very  soul 
seemed  to  sweat  tears  of  an  indescribable  anguish. 

"  Heavens !  merciful  heavens !"  he  exclaimed  in  a  pas- 


32  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

sion  of  overwhelming  grief;  "let  not  this  supreme 
divinity,  this  celestial  chance  escape  me !  Holy  angels  ! 
oh,  pity  me  in  my  misery.  Restore  to  life,  and  to  me, 
my  beautiful,  dove-eyed,  dying  bride !" 

Meanwhile  the  exhausted  girl  slumbered  on  in  deep 
and  blessed  unconsciousness. 

It  was  now  midday.  Suddenly  the  door-bell  was  rung 
with  great  violence,  and  again  and  again  in  rapid  succes 
sion. 

Plu,  a  c[uick,  springy,  cat-like  youth,  who  was  proud  of 
being  regarded  as  the  captain's  vigilant  servant,  an 
nounced  the  arrival  of  two  officers  of  the  police. 

Aragoni  arose  abstractedly  and  descended  to  the 
parlor. 

"  We  bring  sad  tidings,  captain,"  said  the  policeman. 

"  State  your  business,"  replied  Aragoni  with  his  accus 
tomed  energy  and  abruptness. 

They  immediately  told  him  the  story  of  the  frightful 
runaway ;  the  breaking  and  complete  destruction  of  the 
carriage ;  and  the  terrible  death  of  both  Don  and  Lady 
Marigny. 

The  captain  was  overwhelmed.  Here  was  a  new  trial. 
Besides,  the  event  was  inconsistent  with  the  robbery 
"  ordered  "  to  transpire  that  very  night  in  the  Faubourg 
Lafayette.  And  how  could  this  terrible  news  be  com 
municated  to  the  already  prostrated  daughter — his 
beautiful,  dying  wife  ? 

"  Why  did  you  not  apprise  us  earlier  of  this  terrible 
misfortune?"  asked  Aragoni.  Meanwhile  the  solution 
of  the  problem  of  how  he  was  to  act  under  the  new 
circumstances,  was  struggling  in  his  thoughts. 

"Monsieur  complains,  eh?"  interrogated  the  officer, 
insinuatingly. 

"  Yes ;  why  this  long  delay  ?" 

"  Perhaps  Monsieur  forgot  to  apprise  his  friends  of  the 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  33 

exact  locale  of  his  city  residence,"  returned  the  officer 
dryly. 

Aragoni  thoughtfully  muttered  between  his  shut  teeth, 
and  privately  cursed  and  damned  the  officers ;  then  ill- 
humoredly  he  said,  ^Step  out  and  procure  a  coach,  if 
you  please;  while  I  break  this  disastrous  news  to  my 
adorable  wife." 

The  officer  stepped  forward  and  held  before  the  cap 
tain's  eyes  an  order  for  his  arrest. 

Aragoni  was  stern,  threatening,  forbidding,  and  imper 
turbable  for  a  moment.  Then  his  countenance  darkened 
with  the  deadly  nightshades  of  an  indescribable  anguish 
and  despair.  A  blazing  redness  flashed  from  his  eyes 
and  disfigured  his  countenance.  His  knees  trembled. 
He  staggei-ed,  and  suddenly  fell  forward  upon  the  floor. 
His  convulsive  writhings  were  frightful.  He  ground  his 
teeth;  the  white  foam  gathered  around  his  mouth;  his 
fierce  eyes  turned  up  with  a  fixed  gaze ;  a  powerful 
paroxysm  doubled  his  strong  hands  and  tied  his  muscles 
into  painful  knots.  He  was  apparently  dying;  his  face 
saying  "  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard." 

One  of  the  officers  remained  with  the  fallen  man,  and 
attempted  to  relieve  his  intense  sufferings,  while  the 
other  hastened  for  a  physician. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

"  The  charities  that  heal,  and  soothe,  and  bless, 
Are  scattered  at  the  feet  of  man,  like  flowers." — Anon. 

•  « 

THERE  is  a  divine  law  in  the  very  foundations  of  every 
human  soul,  although  unintelligible  to  its  possessor,  by 
which  each  wanderer  from  the  ways  of  love  and  truth  is 

2* 


34  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

eventually  arrested,  tried  by  the  court  of  right,  and  so 
"brought  under  the  redemptive  treatment  of  justice. 

The  physician  at  once  investigated  the  condition  of 
the  prone  and  wretched  assassin.  His  powei'ful  consti 
tution  fought  mightily  with  the  demons  of  disease,  which 
were  thumping  at  his  heart  and  stabbing  his  brain.  The 
doctor  pressed  a  powder  of  belladonna  between  the  set 
teeth  of  the  insensible  man,  and  then  he  administered  to 
the  patient,  experimentally,  something  of  mesmerism 
through  manipulations  and  the  exercise  of  will.  The 
patient's  muscles  slowly  relaxed,  his  pulse  became  normal, 
his  breathing  less  paroxysmal  and  less  laborious,  the 
florid  countenance  faded  into  paleness,  the  rigid  fists 
opened,  and  a  long,  hideous  groan  escaped  his  lips. 

Plu,  the  appalled  servant,  who  had  been  making  him 
self  useful  in  many  ways,  n6w  conducted  the  physician 
to  the  chamber  of  his  dying  mistress. 

The  doctor  cautiously  approached  the  patient — who 
was  still  seemingly  in  a  deep  slumber — raised  his  hand,  and 
poised  it  in  the  air  over  her  Avhite  face.  Then  he  made  a 
few  passes  through  the  air  from  her  head  to  her  feet. 
Presently  she  sighed,  and  ejaculated  the  word  "  carmo  /" 
He  continued  to  sweep  his  hand  through  the  atmosphere 
over  her  prostrate  form.  Again  the  word  "  carmo  "  was 
breathed  from  her  sweet  mouth.  Then  the  physician 
administered  a  remedy,  which  she  immediately  swal 
lowed  ;  then  her  eyes  opened  wonderingly,  and  she  gazed 
about  the  apartment ;  then,  sorrowfully  and  imploringly, 
she  looked  upon  the  strange  face  that  was  beaming  so 
tranquilly  and  so  benevolently  upon  her. 

The  police  officer  had  given  the  doctor  all  reliable  in 
formation  of  the  terrible  accidenJt,  by  which  both  the 
bride's  parents  lost  their  lives ;  and  it  was  resolved  that 
the  time  and  manner  of  imparting  this  deplorable  intelli 
gence  to  the  sick  daughter — the  only  child  of  the  wealthy 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME,  35 

Marigny  family — should  be  left  entirely  to  the  expe 
rienced  judgment  and  skillful  address  of  the  distin 
guished  physician. 

Upon  examination  of  her  feverish  and  hysterical  condi 
tion,  the  man  of  medicine  decided  to  withhold  the  appalling 
knowledge  from  her  for  the  present;  but  he  counseled 
the  officer  to  remove  the  now  partially  restored  captain 
to  the  Marine  and  Military  Hospital,  which  was  located 
within  the  fortifications. 

The  doctor's  advice  was  quickly  and  vigorously  fol 
lowed.  The  proud  and  majestic  Aragoni — the  pompous 
and  magnificent  Aragoni — the  apparently  noble  and  good, 
but  the  really  corrupt,  and  treacherous,  and  murderous 
Aragoni — was  now  a  temple  trembling  and  tottering  to  its 
downfall.  It  was  about  to  fall  helplessly  upon  the  mighty 
bosom  of  unchangeable  divine  Justice,  which  ever  and 
anon  maketh  the  world  to  shake  like  an  aspen  leaf,  and, 
with  its  omnipotent  hand,  rolleth  the  heavens  and  the 
kingdoms  of  earth  together  like  a  scroll. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

"  Who  the  secret  can  unravel 

Of  the  body's  mystic  guest, 
"Who  knows  how  the  soul  may  travel 
"Whilst  unconsciously  we  rest?" — The  Token. 

EXTENSIVE  preparations  for  the  funeral  were  proceeding 
in  the  Marigny  mansion.  Meanwhile,  the  judicious  and 
trustworthy  physician  kept  his  beautiful  patient  ignorant 
of  every  thing. 

On  the  following  morning  he  hastened  to  visit  her. 
What  was  his  astonishment  when  she  inet-him  at  the 


36  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

chamber  door,  laughingly,  cheerily,  but  with  tender  and 
troubled  eyes,  and  most  gracefully  asking  him  to  be 
seated ! 

"Ah,  good  doctor !"  said  she,  archly  and  triumphantly ; 
"  you  can't  deceive  me !  I  know  it  all ! — every  thing, 
doctor ;  yes,  eveiy  thing  !  and,  you  see  that  I  am  calm  /" 

His  amazement  and  embarrassment  can  not  be  describ 
ed.  Her  marvelously  gleeful  and  laughing  speech  suddenly 
saddened  the  expression  of  his  benevolent  countenance. 

"Ah,  doctor,  your  presence  sobers  me,"  said  she,  while 
a  singular  spasmodic  tremor  began  to  agitate  her  whole 
body ;  and  she  added — "  I  would  laugh  like  happy  chil 
dren,  and  sing  like  the  warblers  in  our  garden ;  but  you, 
good  doctor,  coming  in  the  interval  of  my  new-found 
happiness,  cover  me  with  a  shroud !" 

She  now  suddenly  wept  bitterly.  Then  turning  her 
gaze  upon  the  doctor's  thoughtful  face,  in  which  the  ex 
pression  of  utter  astonishment  greatly  predominated,  she 
burst  into  a  maniacal  laugh,  and  commenced  to  walk  a 
little,  and  then  she  ran  rapidly  here  and  there  about  the 
room. 

Gently,  but  with  positive  firmness,  he  persuaded  her 
to  assume  a  reclining  posture  on  the  lounge.  He  took 
her  hand  in  his,  and,  while  examining  her  pulse,  she 
dropped  off  into  a  gentle  sleep.  This  temporary  suspen 
sion  of  her  alarming  symptoms  afforded  him  opportunity 
for  reflection.  He  felt  sorely  tried  and  troubled.  The 
condition  and  conduct  of  his  lovely  patient  seemed  in 
comprehensible.  Meanwhile,  he  realized  most  thoroughly 
that  her  case,  under  the  guidance  of  Providence,  was  in 
his  hands ;  and  he  accepted  the  fact  that  he  would  be, 
by  her  friends,  held  strictly  responsible  for  any  thing  that 
might  happen. 

Suddenly  a  fear,  or,  perhaps,  an  alarming  doubt,  took 
possession  of  his  thoughts.  It  occurred  to  him  that  he 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  37 

had,  possibly,  by  some  mal-application  of  the  mysterious 
mesmeric  power,  superinduced  a  state  of  delirium.  Per 
haps  (oh,  horrible !)  he  had  induced  insanity.  He  was, 
therefore,  for  a  few  minutes  greatly  excited  lest  he  had 
gone  too  far. 

Now,  Dr.  La  Force  Du  Bois — this  was  his  name — was 
a  very  popular  citizen,  and  also  a  very  successful  prac 
titioner,  in  New  (Means.  He  had  graduated  in  Paris. 
He  owned  a  diploma,  which  had  been  richly  earned  by 
hard  and  diligent  study ;  it  was  duly  signed  and  sealed 
by  the  professors  and  president  of  the  French  Academy 
of  Medicine. 

Recently,  however,  the  philosophy  of  disease  and  the 
theory  of  cure  promulgated  by  the  disciples  of  Hahne- 
mann  had  engaged  his  attention.  He  was  partially  a 
convert  to  that  more  refined  and  scientific  practice,  and 
had  experimented  with  the  infinitesimal  agents  to  some 
extent  in  the  treatment  of  yellow  and  bilious  fever.  It 
happened  also,  very  recently,  that  he  met  a  convert  to 
Mesmer's  theory  of  an  universal  ether ;  which,  according 
to  the  theory,  can  be  imparted  or  withdrawn  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  will ;  and  Dr.  Du  Bois  had  ventured,  in 
some  cases,  under  his  care,  to  bring  this  assumed  mag 
netic  ether  into  actual  demonstration.  It  should  in  this 
place  be  added,  however,  that  Dr.  Du  Bois,  although 
a  young  man  in  years,  was,  nevertheless,  an  old  and  a 
wise  man  in  judgment,  profundity,  firmness,  diligence, 
and  reflection.  He  was  possessed  of  the  highest  intellect 
ual  and  moral  endowments  ;  a  deep  thinker,  benevolent 
to  a  fault,  and  constant  in  his  friendships.  He  had, 
besides,  that  unscientific  capacity  frequently  found  very 
strong  in  woman — the  capability  of  loving  sincerely. 

The  first  thing  the  doctor  resolved  upon  was,  to 
make  a  few  more  manipulations  in  the  air  over  the 
reclining  and  now  sleeping  patient.  He  calmly  and 


38  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

firmly  essayed  to  impart  to  her  nerves  somewhat  of  his 
own  superabundance  of  health  and  vital  spirits. 

Her  exquisite  personal  grace  and  her  rare  facial  beauty 
attracted  and  distracted  his  attention.  Yes,  yes,  she 
was  indeed  beautiful,  and  its  chief  grace  consisted  in  her 
ineffable  ignorance  of  it.  Her  wealthy  and  considerate 
fath.er  had  kept  her  from  contact  with  fashionable  con- 
taminators ;  and  her  ingenuous  innocence  and  beauty  of 
character  had  been  shielded  and  strengthened  by  sisterly 
vigilance  in  the  convent.  The  distinguished  doctor,  being 
fully  impressed  with  her  artlessness,  grace,  and  beauty ; 
and  knowing  that  within  two  days  she  had  become  an 
orphan;  and  that  her  husband  had  been  assailed  by  as 
sassins,  stricken  down  with  disease,  and  arrested  on  a 
criminal  charge,  the  nature  of  which 'had  not  yet  tran 
spired — who  wonders  that  he  sincerely  sympathized  with 
her?  and  what  wonder  that  he  inwardly  prayed  to 
merciful  Heaven  for  wisdom  and  strength  to  enable  him 
to  relieve  her  sufferings,  and  to  accomplish  her  complete 
restoration  to  health,  and  thus  to  the  sweet  happiness 
of  true  wedded  life  ? 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

"  Oh,  that  in  unfettered  union, 
Spirit  could  with  spirit  blend." — Old  Hymn. 

IN  that  resplendent  bridal-chamber  there  was  a  calm 
atmosphere — an  indefinable  spirit  that  was  inexpressibly 
tranquilizing  and  assuring.  Of  this  the  youthful  bride 
was  evidently  conscious.  She  suddenly  raised  her  hand 
and  touched  the  doctor's.  "Do  you  know  me?"  she 
inquiringly  asked,  in  whisper  tones. 

"  Yes,  my  child,"  tenderly  replied  the  doctor. 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  39 

"  I  am  not  your  child,"  quickly  she  said. 

"  Why  not  ?"  he  kindly  asked. 

"  My  father  and  my  mother,"  said  she,  "  will  ride  to 
the  Roman  Catholic  Cemetery  to-morrow."  And  then 
she  laughed  convulsively. 

The  now  undisturbed  doctor  willed  her  to  be  calm. 

"  Oh,  good  doctor !"  she  shouted,  "  you  can't  deceive 
me — I  knoAV  it  all — but,"  she  suddenly  added,  "don't 
tell  her  !  don't  tell  her!  promise  me  that  you  will  not." 

"  Who  is  sAe,  whom  I  must  not  tell  ?" 

The  exhausted  girl  made  no  reply,  but  seemed  to  be 
again  lost  in  sleep. 

Presently  she  said,  "  Wake  me  up,  good  doctor,  bring 
me  to  myself." 

He  recollected  the  practical  instructions  of  Mesmer. 
He  made  reverse  passes  through  the  viewless  air  about 
three  inches  above  her  body,  and  from  feet  to  head. 
Gradually  the  reviving  lady  assumed  a  natural  position ; 
the  whiteness  and  coldness  of  her  hands  disappeared ;  a 
rosy  flush  burned  beautifully  upon  her  fair  cheeks ;  she 
opened  her  tender  eyes;  but  suddenly  starting,  she 
looked  wildly  and  apprehensively  into  the  doctor's  quiet 
and  honorable  face ;  and  then  she  said  with  some  show 
of  uncontrollable  nervousness :  "  Sir,  you  are  a  stranger. 
Where's  my  husband  ?  Sir,  I  am  a  bride !  Where's  the 
bridegroom,  sir?  Where's  Captain  Jacques  Del1  Ara- 
goni  ?  I  am  his  wife." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  doctor  most  tenderly,  and  with 
the  greatest  deference  and  politeness,  "  Madam,  you  are 
ill.  But  you  will  soon  recover,  no  doubt.  I  am  your 
physician." 

Suddenly  the  sick  beauty  became  terribly  resolute 
with  a  burning  indignation.  She  bounded  from  the 
lounge  with  the  swiftness  of  a  deer.  She  violently  rung 
the  bell  for  her  waiting-maid.  The  young,  bright-eyed 


40  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

mulatto  girl  entered.  "Dress  me  instantly,"  said  she 
impatiently,  and  with  great  emphasis:  "Put  me  in  a 
carriage  immediately.  Bid  the  coachman  to  drive  with 
all  speed  to  father's  house  in  the  Faubourg  Lafayette." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  firmly,  but 
in  a  tone  of  gentle  expostulation,  "  You  are  an  invalid, 
madam  !  it  will  be  impossible  for  you  to  drive  so  far ; 
that  short  journey  at  this  time  might  destroy  your  life." 

"  My  life !  my  life !  destroy  my  life !"  she  replied 
abstractedly,  and  as  if  endeavoring  to  recall  an  impres 
sion  of  something  vague  and  incomprehensible.  "  Impos 
sible,  doctor !  it  is  impossible !  I  can  not  be  destroyed. 
I  am  the  bride  of  Jesus — he  is  my  everlasting  lover ;  and 
I — and  I,  doctor,  and  I  am  wholly  his  eternal  bride." 

Then  she  sank  exhausted  and  fainting  upon  the  floor, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

Doctor  Du  Bois  was  again  confounded.  But  he  de 
cided  to  send  notes  to  four  of  his  professional  brethren 
in  the  city,  and  request  a  scientific  consultation  upon  her 
case;  for  her  symptoms  were  rapidly  changing  and 
becoming  unmanageable. 

In  the  next  hour  the  most  distinguished  physicians  of 
the  Crescent  City  were  deliberating  together,  after  they 
had  completed  a  thorough  diagnosis  of  the  young  lady's 
condition.  To  their  utter  amazement  they  found  her 
at  least  three  months  away  on  the  path  to  maternity ! 
This  fact  explained  very  much.  But  there  were  abnor 
mal  symptoms  in  her  circulation.  The  doctors  decided 
that  she  was  threatened  with  mania,  which  sometimes 
occurs  in  a  mild  form,  because  of  sudden  disappointment 
and  cerebral  repression.  The  medical  gentlemen  also 
decided  that  absolute  quiet  for  a  few  weeks  would  par 
tially  restore  her.  Then  they  recommended  that  the 
patient  should  take  a  prolonged  voyage ;  perhaps,  a  plea 
sure-trip,  through  the  most  attractive  countries  of  Europe. 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  41 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"I  thank  thee,  Father,  that  I  live; 
Though  wailings  fill  this  earth  of  thine  ; 
To  labor  for  thy  suffering  ones 

Is  joy  divine." — Ann  Preston. 

DOCTOR  LA  FORCE  Du  Bois,  as  you  may  suppose,  was 
relieved  of  anxiety.  He  now  had  no  fears  for  the  future 
of  his  interesting  patient.  He  entertained  the  highest 
respect  for  woman,  and  esteemed  maternity  as  a  sacred 
office.  But  he  was  immeasurably  shocked  and  outraged 
in  his  best  feelings  by  the  discovery  that  the  libertine 
Aragoni  had  enchanted  and  seduced  this  innocent  and 
beautiful  creature. 

A  whole  month  passed,  during  which  the  doctor  went 
every  day  to  visit  the  chai'ming  convalescent. 

One  morning  he  was  startled  with  an  exclamation 
mingled  with  fright  —  "Oh,  doctor — I'm  dying — I'm 
dying  !  dying  !" 

He  walked  to  her,  and  was  just  in  time  to  save  her 
from  falling  on  the  floor.  He  cai'ried  her  to  the  lounge, 
made  a  few  passes  over  her,  and  directly  she  swooned 
into  deep  unconsciousness. 

This  coma,  however,  continued  but  for  a  fleeting 
moment.  Presently  she  threw  up  her  hands,  and  then 
clasped  them  devotionally,  as  if  in  prayer ;  then  she  slowly, 
mysteriously,  whisperingly,  prophetically  said — "  George 
de  Freronier,  alias  Jacques  Del  Aragoni,  is  now  in  the 
military  hospital  within  the  fortifications.  Go  to  him, 
good  doctor  !  Go  to  him  at  once  !  Picture  to  him  what 
you  behold  in  me ;  then,  doctor,  before  he  refuses  to 
further  listen,  give  him  this  message : — '  Carmo,  the 
plundered  and  the  outraged,  was  not  murdered!  JTe 


42  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

lives  !  Yes,  he  lives  !  and  he  is  about  to  testify  against 
you?'" 

On  saying  this  she  returned  to  her  normal  condition, 
and  seemed  tranquil  and  indifferent. 

Imagine  the  doctor's  unspeakable  amazement.  During 
the  first  honey-moon  month  of  her  marriage — every  day 
of  which  was  studiously  kept  quiet  to  promote  her  con 
valescence — not  a  word  had  been  lisped  of  her  husband's 
whereabouts,  or  of  the  decease  of  her  pai'ents.  To  all 
interrogatories  of  this  nature,  those  who  had  access  to 
her  invariably  said :  "  The  captain  is  absent,  madam, 
detained  on  business ;  and  your  father  and  mother  have 
gone  on  a  journey."  These  indefinite  answers  seemed 
invariably  to  satisfy  her  never  too  impatient  curiosity. 

Next  day  Doctor  Du  Bois  proceeded  to  discharge  his 
duty  to  the  captain,  who  had  sufficiently  recovered  to  be 
preparing  for  his  fast  approaching  trial.  He  was  en 
gaged  in  conversation  with  his  lawyer  in  the  prison 
apartment  of  the  fort  when  the  doctor  entered.  Was  it 
strange  that  the  captain's  sorrow-stricken  face  should 
have  turned  deathly  white  when  the  doctor  requested  an 
interview  ?  Could  he  have  suspected  any  thing  ? 

An  armed  guard  paced  to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  to  and 
fro,  before  the  open  door ;  and  an  escort,  also  well-armed, 
stood  within  the  door,  and  next  to  the  lawyer's  chair  on 
the  left,  very  near  the  heavily  barred  window.  A  mys 
terious  impression  of  impending  disaster  had  suddenly 
deprived  the  captain's  mind  of  its  constitutional  cool 
ness  and  inborn  dignity.  But  the  honest  and  conscien 
tious  doctor,  although  deeply  imbued  with  the  strange 
ness  and  singular  solemnity  of  his  message,  did  not  com 
prehend  that  it  could  materially  injure  the  prisoner.  Pie 
regarded  the  communication  as  coming  from  a  sick  and 
partially  insane  young  bride  to  her  incarcerated  husband. 
The  doctor,  however,  in  his  mind  privately  believed  that 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  4.3 

Captain  Aragoni  was  a  villain  of  the  darkest  and  most 
dangerous  type. 

Circumstantially  and  deliberately,  nevertheless,  the 
benevolent  physician  described  what  had  happened.  Of 
the  remarkable  faintings  and  swoonings;  of  the  threat 
ened  delirium  or  mania ;  of  the  unexpected  discovery  by 
the  four  consulting  physicians  ;  of  the  recent  convales 
cence  ;  of  the  sudden  convulsions  and  temporary  loss 
of  physical  power ;  of  the  beautiful  girl's  devotional 
attitudes  and  silent  prayers ;  and  lastly,  the  doctor 
delivered  word  by  word  the  entire  communication  that 
was  given  by  the  entranced  patient  for  he  absent  and 
imprisoned  husband. 

Aragoni  heard  every  word.  He  stood  like  one  trans 
fixed.  His  downcast  eyes,  hopeless  and  desperate,  and 
trembling  limbs,  spoke  plainly  that  his  wretched  fate 
was  sealed.  He  raised  his  two  hands  slowly  and  clasped 
them  in  agony  upon  his  head.  Without  looking  up  he 
groaned  repeatedly ;  then  wonderingly  and  despairingly 
he  said — "Carmo  not  murdered!"  He  paused.  "Carmo 
lives  /"  A  long,  thoughtful  pause  ensued.  Then  he  added 
— " Carmo  not  murdered !  Oh,  impossible!  impossible]" 

Moved  with  pity,  the  benevolent  doctor  addressed  him 
kindly.  The  wretched  prisoner  heeded  nothing. 

"  Eternal  heavens  !"  suddenly  cried  the  desperate  man, 
"  What  means  all  this  ?  What  is  this  hellish  news  you 
bring  ?  Carmo  not  murdered  !" 

His  moaning  and  wailing  betrayed  the  increasing 
desperation  of  his  fallen  soul.  It  was  evident  that  no 
man  could  deliver  him  from  the  penalties  and  sufferings 
of  life-long  transgressions. 

A  brisk,  cheering  wind  was  blowing  through  the  iron 
bars  of  his  raised  window.  It  instantly  revived  the 
elegant  prisoner.  He  raised  his  fine  head,  and  with 
much  calmness  said : — 


44:  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Gentlemen,  pardon  my  confusion  and  nervousness. 
To-morrow,  gentlemen,  to-morrow,  doubtless,  I  shall 
better  comprehend  the  situation."  Then,  turning  to  the 
doctor,  he  said:  "Sir,  you  are  a  stranger  to  me.  You 
are,  you  say,  my  wife's  physician.  Be  it  so.  Look  well 
to  her.  She  will  need  you."  Pausing  for  a  moment,  he 
added :  "  I  would  be  alone,  gentlemen ;  but  first  I  beg  that 
I  may  be  furnished  with  materials  for  writing." 

He  stopped,  overwhelmed  with  his  terrible  agony. 
He  was  evidently  reviewing  memories  of  frightful  and 
diabolical  deeds.  He  shuddered,  and  he  muttered  curses 
between  his  shut  teeth.  He  seemed  to  see  before  him 
a  vision  of  the  scaffold  and  the  executioner !  He  ap 
peared  for  a  moment  on  the  point  of  fainting.  But 
immediately  recovering  himself,  he  bowed  gracefully  and 
humbly  thanked  the  kind-hearted  janitor,  who  had  that 
moment  supplied  his  table  with  writing  material. 

It  should  here  be  understood  that  he  was  not  closely 
watched  and  guarded,  like  a  condemned  man  destined 
for  the  gallows.  He  was  only  under  arrest,  and  had  not 
yet  been  put  on  his  trial.  His  noble  and  commanding 
personal  appearance  had  a  hundred  times  secured  him 
fi-om  assault  in  the  field,  and  had  shielded  him  from  the 
suspicion,  sometimes  hinted  at  by  his  enemies,  that  he  was 
a  masked  chieftain  among  desperate  brigands  and  accom 
plished  counterfeiters.  He  was,  therefore,  treated  at  the 
fort  by  the  officers  in  command  with  conspicuous  consider 
ation.  Indeed,  being  a  universal  favorite  in  the  army,  his 
incarceration  was  rendered  as  little  humiliating  and  as 
agreeable  as  possible.  Besides,  he  was  rightfully  treated 
with  the  respect  due  to  every  human  being  not  yet  con 
victed,  but  who  is  only  suspected  of  participation  in  crime. 
Therefore  his  prison  room  was  not  void  of  comforts.  But 
the  painful  interview  was  now  ended.  The  doctor, 
the  lawyer,  and  the  guard  withdrew.  Then  tho  heavy 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OP  CRIME.  4.5 

prison  door  was  shut,  and  locked,  and  bolted.  And  the 
man  of  misery,  the  man  of  desolation,  and  the  man  of 
unutterable  despair,  was  closed  in  upon  himself.  He 
was  left  alone !  in  the  dreary  solitudes  of  sin — left,  to 
work  out  the  problem  of  life.  He  was  enveloped  and 
overpowered  by  the  divine  mysteries  of  that  light,  on 
the  crystal  billows  of  which  the  song  of  his  dying  bride 
had  penetrated  the  dark  and  evil  recesses  of  his  heart. 

Early  on  the  following  morning  a  soldier  from  the  fort 
appeared  at  the  doctor's  office.  "  I  have  come,"  said  he, 
"  to  announce  the  suicide  of  the  prisoner,  Captain  Ara- 
goni." 

The  physician  ordered  his  horse  and  rode  immediately 
to  the  fort.  Horrible  spectacle !  He  found  the  tall, 
majestic  form  of  the  unhappy  man  stretched,  white  and 
cold,  upon  the  prison  bed.  The  pillow  was  saturated 
with  blood;  and  the  overflow,  from  a  ghastly  wound 
just  made,  was  slowly  dropping,  sadly  dropping  on  the 
stone  floor.  To  the  doctor  it  seemed  to  emit  a  sound, 
in  the  breathless  stillness  of  the  prison,  like  the  beating  of 
a  distant  muffled  drum.  With  his  powerful  hand  the  cap 
tain  had  forced  the  blade  of  a  small  dirk-knife  straight 
into  the  opening  between  the  right  auricle  and  the  right 
ventricle.  The  work  of  destruction  was  complete.  Upon 
the  heavy  plank  table  were  discovered  two  letters.  They 
were  most  carefully  sealed.  The  names  and  instructions 
were  firmly  and  artistically  superscribed.  The  larger  of 
the  two  was  addressed : — 


46  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Upon  the  other  letter,  also  very  neatly  folded  and 
sealed,  was  — 


(^r  cu$  /     /  G?/  •  // 

&c    out,    G&et&vea'      mUd  : 


amet,  4   ^£eaacu  :    to   ve  o/ienea 

/       /  '  / 


om    Wu6>    aau. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

"Death  is  another  life. 

"We  bow  our  heads 

At  going  out,  we  think,  and  enter  straight 
Another  golden  chamber  of  the  King's, 
Larger  than  this  wo  leave,  and  lovelier." 

Good  Templar. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  damaged  social  and  military 
reputation  of  the  deceased,  his  colonel  and  all  the  cap 
tains  of  his  regiment  resolved  to  take  a  testimonial  part 
in  the  last  sad  offices  for  the  dead.  They  appeared  in 
full-dress  uniforms,  the  regimental  band  furnished  appro 
priate  music,  and  the  display  was  unusually  brilliant. 

Of  all  this,  the  convalescing  wife  knew  absolutely 
nothing.  The  doctor  had  possessed  himself  of  the  letters 
written  by  her  husband.  Not  deeming  her  mind  suffi 
ciently  restored  to  receive  them,  he  cautiously  locked 
them  up  in  his  own  house  with  other  papers  of  value. 

When  the  funeral  cortege  marched  out  of  the  fort, 
Doctor  Du  Bois  was  purposely  engaged  in  .earnest  con 
versation  with  the  charming  invalid.  :  The  sound  of 


PLANTING    THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  4.7 

beating  drums  reached  her  ear.  A  passionate  and  mys 
terious  force  gained  possession  of  her.  She  rushed  to 
the  window  and  looked  out  upon  the  city.  She  stood 
still,  almost  breathless,  listening.  She  seemed  natural 
and  quiet  as  a  child.  The  grand  and  brilliant  procession, 
the  beautiful  gay  uniforms  of  her  husband's  regiment — 
which  she  had  so  often  watched  with  a  romantic  maid 
enly  pride  and  passionate  eye — the  enchanting  music, 
low  and  solemn — the  beautiful  gallantry  exhibited  in  the 
military  bearing  of  the  captains — in  silence  she  saw  it  all, 
inhaled  the  meaning  of  it,  and  looked  for  the  moment  as 
if  her  whole  soul  was  in  it. 

The  doctor  with  anxiety  was  preparing  his  mind  to 
witness  another  crisis  in  the  condition  of  his  patient. 
He,  however,  appeared  indiffei-ent,  and  deliberately  ap 
proached  the  window  as  if  to  view  the  scene.  She 
instantly  said,  with  a  startled  and  offended  look — 

"  Doctor,  oblige  me  by  retiring  at  once  to  the  parlor." 

He  withdrew  deferentially,  meanwhile  speculating  in  his 
thoughts  what  was  likely  next  to  happen.  He  breath 
lessly  listened  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  in  the  hall  below. 
It  relieved  him,  however,  when  the  bright-eyed  mulatto 
maid  answered  the  summoning  bell.  He  immediately 
heard  busy  feet  overhead,  and  laughter,  and  snatches  of 
song,  and  the  chattering  of  merry  voices.  So  he  con 
cluded  that  mistress  and  maid  were  playing  together  like 
innocent  and  happy  children.  He  thanked  God. 

Presently  he  was  called  to  her  chamber ;  then  the  serv 
ant-maid  withdrew.  Imagine  his  astonishment  when, 
on  entering  the  apartment,  he  was  met  by  the  beautiful 
Creole  arrayed  in  all  the  glory  and  grandeur  of  a  bloom 
ing  bride !  The  drapery  of  her  bridal  dress,  and  all  the 
wedding  ornaments  were  upon  her,  in  splendid  profusion. 

"Ah,  good  doctor,"  said  she,  with  a  shade  of  dis 
appointment,  "  you  are  offended." 


48  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

He  smiled  benevolently,  and  said,  "  Oh,  HO,  no — my 
child  !" 

Attempting  and  affecting  to  look  with  admiration 
upon  the  really  beautiful  object — a  pale,  graceful  young 
creature,  dressed  for  the  nuptial  altar  in  exquisite  style 
and  in  the  richest  fabrics — he  added,  ,"  You  charm  me, 
dear — but,"  his  hesitation  and  perplexity  getting  the 
better  of  him,  and  so  becoming  apparent,  "but,  my 
dear,  are  you  not  too  thinly  clad  for  this  chilly  season  ?" 

"With  the  dignified  grace  of  a  lady  of  education, 
united  with  the  irresistible  archness  and  simplicity  of  an 
innocent  child,  she  instantly  took  his  hand  and  led  him 
to  a  seat.  Then  she  gracefully  seated  herself  by  his 
side.  A  convulsive  tremor  shook  her  whole  body  for  a 
moment.  Then  she  bent  forward  and  knelt  upon  the 
floor.  Her  white  hands  were  clasped  upon  her  bosom. 
Her  upturned  eyes  were  filled  with  devotion,  and  shin 
ing  with  the  heavenly  feelings  of  true  aspiration.  She 
seemed  to  be  rapt  in  silent  prayer. 

A  long  pause.  Then  slowly  and  sorrowfully  she  arose 
to  her  feet.  She  stretched  forth  her  right  hand  and  laid 
it  upon  the  doctor's  noble  head.  With  her  left  she  car 
ried  his  right  hand,  and  pressed  the  palm  passionately, 
upon  her  rapidly  throbbing  heart. 

"  O  merciful  God  "  said  she,  in  a  voice  trembling  with 
profound  emotion,  "  pardon  all  pride  and  vanity  in  thy 
child !  Pardon  all  sinful  thoughts,  all  angry  and  rash 
words,  all  fretfulness,  impatience,  and  discontent !  pardon 
all  other  sins,  which,  from  time  to  time,  she  may  have 
committed  in  thy  sight !  Hear  me,  O  holy  Shepherd  of 
Israel ! — hear  me,  O  holy  Mother  of  Jesus  ! — hear  me, 
O  Father  of  the  Eternal  Kingdom ! — forgive  him,  my  hus 
band,  who  has  gone  from  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  and  from 
the  vanities  and  temptations  of  a  wicked  world! — oh, 
forgive  him  !  forgive  him  !  " 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  49 

Suddenly  she  sank  upon  the  floor ;  but  she  looked  up, 
and  a  smile  of  happiness  illumined  her  sweet  face.  Then 
she  hummed  plaintive  refrains  and  parts  of  a  song. 
Gathering  strength,  and  with  the  doctor's  assistance, 
she  arose  and  resumed  the  position  of  standing  by  his 
side. 

"  Ah,  good  doctor,"  she  began  with  wonderful  pathos : 
"  you  do  not  understand  me.  I  am  a  bride — the  bride 
of  Jesus — therefore,  sir,  I  am  appropriately  arrayed." 

"  What  is  this  mysterious  marriage,  my  child  ?  Can 
you  describe  it  ?"  he  asked,  with  profound  tenderness. 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,"  she  replied,  "  I  can  tell  you,  and  I 
will."  Her  countenance  shone  with  a  supernatural 
radiance. 

"  The  mysteries  of  marriage,"  she  solemnly  continued, 
"  vanish  before  the  eyes  of  wisdom.  There  are  mar 
riages  of  the  flesh,  and  there  are  marriages  of  the  spirit. 
Mates  know  each  other  when  they  meet ;  when  mis-mates 
meet,  they  hate  each  other.  Thus,  you  see,  good  doctor, 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  love  at  first  sight,  and  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  hate  at  first  sight.  This  bleak  Novem 
ber  is  hateful  to  rosy-footed  May,  with  her  lovely  flowers 
and  glittering  fields.  In  the  sacred  silence  of  the  heart 
the  love  of  Jesus  is  conceived.  This  is  pure  spirit-love 
— the  love  of  purity  for  purity.  When  kindred  hearts 
meet  and  marry,  they  pass  life  and  eternity  together  in 
perfect  unison ;  both  know  intuitively  what  is  essential 
to  their  happiness.  They  are  obedient,  and  eternal  joy 
is  their  reward." 

"Tour  discourse,  my  child,  is  profound  beyond  your 
years,"  remarked  the  doctor. 

She   smiled  incredulously.      "Spirit,"    said  she,   "is 
neither  old  nor  young ;  because  God  is  neither  old  nor 
young.     Neither  is  truth,  or  love,  or  life ;  for  the  circle 
of  eternity  has  neither  beginning  nor  ending." 
3 


50  TALE  OP.  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Doctor  Du  Bois  almost  reproached  himself  with  the  fact 
that  he  had  permitted  her  marvelous  discourse  to  absorb 
his  whole  attention.  He  had  forgotten,  he  feared,  to 
discharge  his  duties  as  her  protector — physician.  She 
had  opened  up  a  new  subject  to  his  mind,  and  he  had 
eagerly  received  her  inspired  words,  like  one  hungering 
and  thirsting  for  the  bread  and  waters  of  life.  Recol 
lecting  himself,  however,  he  led  her  to  the  lounge,  and 
commenced  manipulating  her  throbbing  head.  After  a 
brief r  silence,  she  joyfully  shouted — 

"  Oh,  thanks !  thanks !  The  terrible  monsters  are  gone ! 
I  have  been  appalled !  I  have  been  riding  in  the  whirl 
wind  clouds  of  love's  madness !  But  now ! — now  the 
night  is  passed ! — now,  blessed  be  God  and  his  angels ! 
I  am  free  !  free !  free !" 

"What  monsters,  my  child?  What  clouds  of  mad 
ness  ?" 

"  Why,  good  doctor,  don't  you  know  ?" 

"Know  what,  dear?" 

"  That  the  raven's  wing  is  broken ! — that  black,  hot 
wing  under  which  I  have  been  so  long  sheltered,  and 
warmed,  and  imprisoned,  and  almost  destroyed !" 

The  physician  very  kindly  remarked — "  I  do  not  com 
prehend." 

"For  months,"  she  replied,  "my  very  heart  has  been 
mad  with  love ;  because  he,  so  powerful  and  so  beautiful, 
had  thrown  his  passionate  will  upon  me.  He  infatuated 
me  with  his  delicious  enchantments  ;  he  held  me  close  to 
his  heart,  as  a  ferocious  beast  hugs  its  prey;  he  drank 
my  very  breath ;  he  fed  his  passions  with  my  blinded 
affections ;  he  sheltered  me  and  absorbed  me ;  his  mag 
netism  filled  my  nerves ;  my  very  heart  was  on  fire  for 
him ; — but,  oh,  thanks  !  thanks !  I  am  .now  free !  free ! 
free !" 

The  prostrate  girl  clasped  her  hands  together  in  a 


PLANTING-  THE  SEEDS  OP  CRIME.  51 

paroxysm  of  inexpressible  joy.  The  doctor  "began  quietly 
to  make  reverse  passes  in  the  air  over  her,  and  very  soon 
she  sank  into  a  natural  and  tranquilizing  slumber. 
Seeing  that  all  was  now  right  with  her,  he  called  the 

O  O  ' 

maid,  left  full  and  explicit  directions  for  the  administra 
tion  of  remedies,  and  then  thoughtfully  returned  to  his 
office. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

"  Bright  "was  her  soul  as  Dian's  crest 
Showering  on  Vesta's  fane  its  sheen." — Landor. 

WEEKS  and  months  slipped  by,  bringing  important 
changes  and  transformations,  in  accordance  with  the 
unceasing  workings  of  the  progressive  law,  which,  if  we 
believe  the  teachings  of  modern  philosophers,  is  but 
another  name  for  the  unchangeable  ways  of  an  un 
changeable  God. 

Time's  merciless  fingers,  however,  had  been  busy  pull 
ing  down  and  scattering  into  the  air  the  estates  of  Don 
Marigny  in  the  Faubourg  Lafayette.  What  was  supposed 
by  Aragoni  and  his  friends,  and  by  the  intelligent  inhab 
itants  of  New  Orleans  generally,  to  be  an  immense  and 
unencumbered  property,  to  which  the  beautiful  daughter 
would  be  sole  heiress,  turned  out  a  complete  and  wretched 
failure — after  paying  creditors,  not  leaving  more  than  a 
few  thousand  dollars  to  the  dependent  and  youthful 
widow. 

The  richly  furnished  and  princely  residence,  into  which 
the  magnificent  impostor,  Aragoni,  conveyed  his  bloom 
ing  bride  immediately  after  the  nuptial  services  were 
concluded,  was  quickly  transferred  under  the  auctioneer's 
hammer. 


52  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Young  Madame  Aragoni,  in  whose  spiritual  and  tem 
poral  situation  the  Jesuit  Fathers  and  Ursuline  nuns 
never  failed  to  take  the  liveliest  interest,  was  invited  to 
occupy  rooms  in  an  edifice  connected  with  their  convent. 
She  accepted,  and  removed  to  a  sacred  retreat  in  the 
spacious  and  handsome  institution. 

After  this  she  received  no  more  visits  from  the  benev 
olent  and  deeply  interested  Doctor  Du  Bois.  Day  by 
day  he  looked  at  every  lady  he  passed  in  his  walks  and 
drives  through  the  city  and  suburbs.  He  was  certain 
that  he  would  instantly  know  her;  by  her  very  Avalk 
and  deportment,  as  far  as  eye  could  see,  he  knew  he  could 
recognize  her;  but  she  never  came  to  delight  his  vigilant 
heart.  Oh,  such  painful  waiting  ! 

One  day,  however,  he  thought  he  had  surely  found  the 
beautiful  patient.  He  was  leisurely  strolling  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  cemeteries,  just  a  little  way  out  of  the 
city,  when  suddenly  a  closely-veiled  lady  passed  out 
from  one  of  the  tombs,  and  seemed  to  disappear  in  a 
large  group  of  negroes,  mulattoes,  and  quadroons,  who 
were  servants  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  then  promenading 
in  the  park.  He  searched  for  her,  but  was  not  successful. 
Then  he  returned  and  examined  the  finely  constructed 
tomb,  which  was  built  with  thick  walls  above  ground. 
On  the  door  he  read  the  name  of  '•'•Don  Calvo  Marigny." 
This  decided  him  that  he  had  not  been  mistaken.  Ah, 
he  knew  he  could  not  be !  Again  and  again,  with  the 
lamp  of  hope  newly  trimmed,  he  visited  the  vicinity  of 
the  tomb ;  but  to  him  another  such  vision,  so  attractive 
and  so  heavenly,  was  never  again  vouchsafed.  Changes 
occurred  meanwhile,  of  which  the  benevolent  physician 
knew  nothing. 

The  homeless  Sophia  had  an  uncle  residing  in  a  grove 
of  palm,  lime,  and  orange  trees  on  the  isle  of  Cuba.  He 
was  an  opulent  Creole  planter,  with  a  justly  earned  repu- 


PLANTING  TUB   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  53 

tation  for  intelligence,  enterprise,  and  courtly  hospitality. 
The  story  of  the  discovery  of  America  by  Columbus 
possessed  peculiar  charms  for  her  when  a  mere  child. 
She  was  exceedingly  delighted  and  proud  of  Spanish 
history,  more  especially  that  part  of  it  which  connected 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  with  the  West  India  Islands,  and 
with  the  discovery  by  Columbus  of  beautiful  and  opulent 
Cuba.  Much  of  delight  she  felt  when  thinking  of  Cuba 
was  the  creation  of  her  fertile  imagination.  But  the  con 
vent  physician  encouraged  her  departure  to  a  more 
tropical  climate  than  that  of  Louisiana.  She  made 
preparations  accordingly,  and  sailed  for  Havana  in 
January,  1821,  about  two  months  before  she  became  the 
mother  of  a  well-formed  and  beautiful  child. 

One  day  the  New  Orleans  post-office  delivered  a  letter, 
evidently  addressed  by  a  lady's  hand,  to  "Doctor  La 
Force  Du  Bois,  No.  —  Esplanade  Street."  It  was  post 
marked  Havana,  Cuba.  The  physician's  warm  heart 
swelled  with  a  secret  happiness.  He  hastened  to  his 
office,  locked  the  door  against  all  comers,  opened  the 
the  precious  treasure,  and  read : — 

"Mr  DEAR  DOCTOR:  I  have  been  trying  to  write  you  for  a  long 
time,  but  this  b'usy,  this  vexatious,  this  delightful  world  has  run  away 
with  every  spare  moment,  till  now.  Don't  you  long  to  know  all  about 
me  ?  I  love  Cuba  a  thousand  times  better  than  hateful  New  Orleans, 
with  its  levees  and  swamps  and  yellow  fevers.  I  wouldn't  go  back 
for  worlds.  The  past  is  hateful  to  think  of ;  I  am  trying  to  forget  the 
whole  of  it.  Here  I  can  confess  my  sins,  and  unburden  my  troubled 
soul,  and  feel  happier  and  comforted.  But  I  never  could  be  happy  nor 
comfortable  in  hateful  New  Orleans.  I  don't  see  how  you  can  live 
there,  doctor  dear.  Here  everybody  is  delightful;  and,  oh,  what  a 
charming,  sequestered  spot  this  is,  where  my  amiable  uncle  resides, 
only  a  short  drive  from  the  city  with  its  beautiful  stores,  and  the 
beautiful  Spanish  ships  of  war,  and  winged  vessels  of  commerce  from 
all  parts  of  the  world. 

"  Ah,  another  thing  I  must  tell  you,  doctor  dear — my  poor  fatherless 


54:  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

baby  was  born  two  months  ago.  I  suffered  dreadfully.  But  everybody 
here  is  so  kind,  and  the  Spanish  ladies  and  gentlemen  send  me  so 
many  lovely  presents;  and  a  thousand  passing  vanities,  one  after 
another,  so  gratify  mo  and  consume  my  time,  that  I  am  cheated  out  of 
all  suffering ;  and  the  days  come  and  go  so  fast  I  sometimes  fear  that  I 
shall  not  remember  in  the  eternal  world  a  millionth  part  of  what  hap 
pens  to  me  in  this  life.  And  I  mean  to  forget  the  past  as  fast  as  I  go 
into  the  future,  wouldn't  you,  doctor  dear  ?  Oh,  the  horrible,  hideous, 
wicked  past  I 

"  The  dinner-bell  rings  !  "Well,  I  don't  care  if  it  does.  This  letter 
must  be  written  while  I'm  at  it,  or  it  will  never  be  finished,  for  tho 
house  is  being  prepared  for  a  great  party  this  evening,  and  you  know, 
doctor  dear,  that  my  presence  is  particularly  wanted  at  such  times. 
My  kind,  noble  Spanish  aunt,  says :  '  Sophia  is  the  very  life  and  soul 
of  the  assembly!'  It's  very  kind  in  her  I  am  sure  to  say  so,  but  of 
course  I  don't  accept  it  all  as  truth,  although  I  confess  it  gives  mo 
pleasure  to  be  courted  and  admired  by  those  I  love.  And  I  fancy 
sometimes,  doctor  dear,  my  love  is  warm  toward  everybody  in  Cuba. 
But  I  hate  every  thing  and  everybody  in  New  Orleans,  except  you  and 
the  good  fathers  and  holy  nuns  at  the  Ursuline  Convent.  For  you 
know  that  I  can  never  be  ungrateful. 

"  Oh,  I  almost  forgot  to  give  you  tho  name  of  my  handsome  little 
boy —  Carmo  Del  Arugoni.  Beautiful,  isn't  it  ? 

"Now  I'll  tell  you  how  it  came  about. 

"  During  my  confinement  to  the  house,  after  the  birth  of  my  baby, 
the  family  physician  said  I  was  afflicted  with  '  somnambulism'  (what 
ever  that  may  be) ;  and  he  said  that  I  talked  and  did  pany  wonderful 
things.  He  pronounced  it  a  nervous  affection,  and  gave  me  remedies. 
They  all  said  that  I  was  like  one  dying.  My  unconscious  profession 
was  that  I  could  and  did  perceive  things  spiritual.  I  recall  nothing  of 
the  past,  remember ;  and  I  don't  want  to,  and  I  won't  I  So  of  course 
I  know  really  nothing  of  what  I  am  now  relating. 

"  "Well,  the  family  say  that  one  night  I  seemed  to  behold  a  spirit,  or 
something  of  that  kind,  and  the  apparition  appeared  to  speak  through 
my  lips,  and  said,  referring  to  the  baby — 

"  Let  his  name  be  Carmo  Del  AragonV 

"  Now  I  like  that  name,  don't  you,  doctor  dear?  It  sounds  romantic 
and  Spanish-like,  and  I  love  every  thing  and  everybody  Spanish,  except 
Borne  hateful  people  who  live  in  hateful  New  Orleans.  I  don't  think 
they  have  in  their  veins  a  drop  of  true  Spanish  blood,  do  you  ?  If  they 
fall  sick,  doctor,  won't  you  Need  them  within  an  inch  of  their  lives,  and 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  55 

let  me  pay  you  for  the  trouble  ?      My  lavish  uncle  supplies  my  purse 
with  gold  and  silver  every  day.     I  have  so  much  I  can't  count  it. 

"  There's  my  maid,  come  to  arrange  my  hair  and  drape  me  for  the 
evening's  entertainment  I  So  good-bye,  doctor  dear ;  now  don't  forget 
your  affectionate 

"  SOPHIA. 

"  P.  S. — Did  you  ever  attend  a  Spanish  fandango  ?  Oh,  such  funny, 
lively  times !  I'm  invited  to  dance  at  one  to-morrow  evening ;  and  I 
shall  attend  it,  you  may  be  sure. 

"  P.  S. — A  splendid  young  Spanish  gentleman  has  just  called.  He's 
the  son  of  the  Spanish  admiral,  and  grandson  of  the  Captain-General 
of  Cuba." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

"Dreaming  sweet  dreams,  till  earth-born  turbulence 
Was  all  forgot;  and  thinking  that  in  thee, 
Far  from  the  rudeness  of  this  jarring  world, 
There  might  be  realms  of  quiet  happiness  1" — Sard. 

DOCTOR  Dti  Bois  was  thunderstruck.  He  tossed  the 
letter  energetically  and  impatiently  from  him,  and  paced 
the  floor  in  profound  distress.  He  was  annoyed,  grieved, 
confounded.  What  a  transformation !  What  a  fall 
from  the  estate  of  an  angel,  pleading  for  truth  and 
humanity,  to  that  of  a  fickle,  fluttering  butterfly  of  the 
fashionable  world  !  He  seemed  to  see  her  standing  upon 
the  verge  of  an  abyss.  He  threw  up  both  his  hands  to 
catch  her  and  to  save  her  from  the  terrible  descent.  She 
saw  him  not.  "  O  God  of  heaven !"  he  exclaimed,  "  is 
there  no  arm  to  shield  her  from  this  fate  ?"  Then  again 
he  walked  the  floor — to  and  fro,  to  and  fro — in  perfect 
•wretchedness  and  gloom. 

Perhaps  it  should  here  be  told  that  the  doctor  was  yet 
under  thirty,  and  unmarried ;  although  from  the  natu 
rally  thoughtful  cast  of  his  honest  face,  and  the  round 


56  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

plump  build  of  his  body,  he  appeared  to  be  a  much  older 
man.  And  it  is  barely  possible  that  interested  motives 
mixed  somewhat  with  his  unspeakable  solicitude  for  the 
charming  young  widow  in  Cuba.  Every  heart  holds  its 
own  secrets.  It  seems  to  be  wisely  ordained  that  neither 
the  faults  nor  the  virtues  of  the  soul  shall  be  exposed  to 
the  gaze  of  others.  There  is  ofttimes  as  much  protec 
tion  in  wise  secrecy  as  there  is  strength  in  integral  unity. 
We  do  not,  therefore,  presume  to  intrude  upon  the  secret 
treasures  which  may  lie  in  the  chambers  of  the  bleeding 
heart  of  Doctor  Du  Bois. 

Study  and  research  had  thoroughly  developed  the 
doctor's  thinking  principle  in  many  directions.  Mean 
while  his  affections — the  tender  and  loving  heart  of  the 
man — had  been  left  comparatively  uncultivated.  The 
sentiment  of  love,  if  that  which  is  an  eternal  principle 
can  be  so  called,  had  scarcely  germinated  in  his  manly 
consciousness.  Woman  was,  therefore,  a  mystery.  The 
incomprehensibilities  and  the  recurring  inconsistencies 
of  the  female  heart  confounded  him.  To  his  orderly 
and  methodical  and  logical  mind  woman  was  a  creature 
of  disorder,  inconsistency,  and  inconstancy.  He  feared 
her ;  yet  no  man  more  venerated  woman,  or  had  higher 
regard  for  her  maternal  office  in  the  sublime  order  of 
nature.  He  resolved,  however,  to  answer  the  blooming 
widow's  letter,  and  here  it  is : — 

"NEW  ORLEANS,  LA.,  May,  1821. 

"Mr  DEAR  MADAM:  I  have  the  exquisite  honor — the  exceeding  joy 
and  supreme  happiness,  I  may  say — of  acknowledging  your  most  agree 
able  letter." 

Here  the  doctor  paused.  He  laid  down  his  pen  and 
walked  the  floor  thoughtfully.  Then  he  returned  to  his 
task. 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  GRIME.  57 

"  One  portion  of  your  adorable  letter,  I  must  confess,  filled  me  with 
misery.  You  seem  to  cultivate  feelings  akin  to  retaliation  toward 
persons  and  scenes  in  your  native  city." 

The  doctor  read  and  re-read  this  sentence ;  he  did  not 
like  it  exactly;  it  did  not  exactly  say  what  he  meant  .to 
express ;  but  he  concluded  to  let  it  go,  and  so  resumed  : — 

"  Months  ago  I  obtained  from  your  entranced  lips,  in  this  very  city, 
most  astounding  revelations.  Your  celestial  language  was  fragrant 
with  the  imperishability  of  ideas.  Your  collective  utterances  I  have, 
with  most  valuable  letters,  which  in  some  future  day  you  may  read, 
locked  up  in  my  private  iron  trunk.  You  seemed,  in  your  moments 
of  highest  ecstasy,  to  assume  all  aptitudes  and  to  comprehend  all 
laboratories  tor  the  expression  of  all  most  delicate  and  mysterious 
sentiments." 

Suddenly  the  doctor  recollected  that  he  was  writing  to 
a  young  lady !  "  That  will  never  do,"  he  said  to  himself; 
"a  lovely  lady  should  receive  a  lovely  letter."  Then, 
after  a  little  hesitation  and  reflection,  he  wrote  on : — 

"  Permit  me,  dear  madam,  to  congratulate  you  on  the  successful 
deliverance  of  your  baby.  What  could  be  more  appropriate  than  the 
divine  name  'CarmoS  I  have  ere  this  heard  of  the  singular  name; 
but  only  when  pronounced,  in  marvelous  ecstasy,  by  your  beautiful 
lips.  You  did  well,  dear  madam,  to  accept  the  name  divinely  given." 

A  thousand  strange  thoughts  seemed  to  rush  through 
his  brain.  He  connected  the  child's  name  with  all  the 
horrible  occurrences  of  the  past  few  months.  But  he 
resolved  to  refrain  from  every  word  which  might  bring 
the  past  too  distinctly  back  to  the  beloved  Sophia : — 

"Listen  attentively,  dear  madam,  to  my  few  remaining  words. 
Fate,  or  otherwise  some  heavenly  power,  has  inspired  me  with  a 
powerful  attraction  toward  you.  Your  image  is  present  in  all  my 
thoughts.  And  when  I  dream,  which  happens  rarely  when  the  city  is 
healthy  and  I  am  not  overtaxed  with  professional  duties — yes,  when  I 
dream,  your  image,  as  enchanting  and  as  lovely  as  an  angel's,  wanders 
with  me  whither  I  roam." 
3* 


58  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

This  bold  declaratory  sentence  seemed  to  render  the 
doctor  intense  gratification.  It  was  the  first  line  of 
undisguised  love  that  ever  dropped  from  his  pen.  His 
heart  throbbed,  and  he  began  to  hope.  Then  he  wrote 
his  final  word : — 

"Doubtless,  most  lovely  madam,  you  are  now  happy.  If,  however, 
at  any  time  in  the  future,  you  should  need  a  friend  or  a  physician,  do 
me  the  unspeakable  honor  of  calling  upon 

"LA  FORCE  Du  Bois,  M.  D." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

"  The  world  is  too  much  with  us ;  in  our  hours 
Of  loneliness  come  thoughts  of  other  days — 
Remembrances  of  summer's  withered  flowers, 
Of  woodland  walks,  and  pleasant  hillside  ways." 

Woodfern. 

THE  studious  and  skillful  doctor,  who  was  a  full- 
blooded  Frenchman,  had  attained  an  enviable  position 
in  his  profession.  No  other  physician  had  ever  been  so 
successful  with  patients  stricken  with  yellow  fever.  His 
name  and  fame  were  in  eveiy  one's  'mouth.  He  was, 
however,  an  investigator  and  a  progressive  man,  and  was 
willing  to  acquire  additional  knowledge  on  every  sub 
ject  ;  hence,  as  the  reader  is  now  aware,  impelled  by  his 
constitutional  inquisitiveness  in  truth's  realms,  he  was 
reading  and  experimenting  in  the  mysteries  of  magnet 
ism.  He  had  read  extensively  in  science,  philosophy, 
literature,  art,  history,  and  was  never  happier  than  when 
he  found  a  companion,  either  lady  or  gentleman,  with 
whom  he  could  talk  an  hour  on  any  of  these  studies.  In 
point  of  fact,  he  was  the  most  intelligent  and  the  most 
successful  medical  man  in  the  Crescent  City. 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OP  CRIME.  59 

Yet,  of  the  phenomena  of  ecstatic  clairvoyance,  as 
exhibited  in  the  case  of  young  Madame  Aragoni,  he 
realized  an  uncommon  degree  of  ignorance.  He,  how 
ever,  disagreed  with  the  Cuban  physician,  who  had 
diagnosticated  the  manifestation  as  "  an  affection  of  the 
nervous  system ;"  and  he  was  profoundly  shocked,  not  to 
say  inexpressibly  grieved  and  horrified,  at  the  flippancy 
with  which  she,  the  adorable  Creole  beauty,  treated  these 
sacred  things. 

Standing  at  this  angle,  and  not  feeling  at  all  certain 
that  he  comprehended  woman's  sensitive  and  impulsive 
nature,  all  things  began  to  look  revolutionary.  He  had 
mailed  his  letter,  which  contained  his  first  hint  of  love, 
but  now  he  would  recall  it.  He  could  write  something 
infinitely  more  perfect.  It  was  too  late ;  the  vessel  had 
sailed ;  his  letter  was  already  in  her  hand. 

Her  ringing  laughter  was  heard  by  guests  then  prom 
enading  in  palm  and  orange  groves  near  her  uncle's 
residence.' 

"  Oh,  do  come !"  she  hilariously  shouted.  "  Come, 
somebody — everybody  !  I'm  in  raptures  !" 

Her  cheerful  and  magnetic  voice,  combined  with  her 
many  personal  attractions,  invariably  acted  magically. 
The  young  folks  flocked  about  her  in  high  glee.  "  Oh, 
it's  too  funny  for  any  thing !"  Her  beautiful  face  was 
beaming  with  exuberant  merriment. 

"  Pray  tell  us  this  instant !"  chimed  in  many  voices ; 
"we're  waiting  for  something  to  laugh  at."  But  they 
all  laughed  immoderately  without  waiting,  and  danced  a 
waltzing  fandango  about  the  beautiful  girl. 

"  Now  all  stop !"  said  she,  "  and  I'll  tell  every  one. 
Here's  a  letter  from  an  old,  good-natured,  New  Orleans 
doctor;  and  what  do  you  think?" 

Then  she  laughed,  and  turned  round  and  round  on  her 
heel,  like  a  child  not  yet  five  years  old ;  but  suddenly 


60  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

ceasing,  and  forcing  her  countenance  to  assume  a  mock- 
solemn  expression,  she  said : — 

"  Why,  the  old  doctor  is  making  love  to  me  !  But  he's 
so  dreadfully  awkward !  His  letter  reads  for  all  the 
world  just  like  a  sermon  and  an  expostulation  by  holy 
Father  Malarm.  Oh,  it's  too  funny  for  any  thing !" 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

"  Ah,  no,  fair  boy,  it  can  not  be ! 
For  thine  is  human  destiny." — Green. 

IT  must  now  begin  to  be  evident  to  my  reader  that 
this  young  orphan — this  young,  beautiful  widow — this 
young,  inexperienced  mother — all  three  in  one  beautiful 
and  impulsive  person — is  the  legitimate  offspring  of  the 
blood,  and  temperament,  and  constitution  of  Don  Calvo 
Marigny.  She  is  unfolding  with  indiscriminate  love 
burning  in  her  innocent  heart. 

Now,  who  shall  say  aught  to  chill  and  circumscribe 
the  universality  of  her  affection?  Behold  her,  singing, 
running,  dancing,  and  laughing  in  the  sunshine,  like  a 
pleasure-loving  fairy  stealing  kisses  from  every  pair  of 
beautiful  lips — fit  companion  alike  for  the  artist  and  the 
prodigal  millionaire — calling  forth  endearments  and 
evoking  joyful  emotions  from  everybody — graceful  and 
free  as  a  bird — finding  romantic  openings  in  the  groves 
for  lovers — lavishing  her  unconsciously  voluptuous  smiles 
upon  guests  of  either  sex — loading  her  tables  and  every 
body's  tables  with  mountains  of  bouquets;  and,  withal, 
religious— a  good  Catholic — sings  praises  divinely  on 
holidays  in  Cuba — prays  to  Jesus  Christ  and  to  the  Holy 
Virgin — and  not  neglecting  to  play  like  a  child  with  her 


PLANTING   THE   SEEDS  OF  CHIME.  Q± 

little,  beautiful  baby  boy.  "Who,  then,  that  loves  spon 
taneous  life — who  that  loves  nature  as  much  in  butterflies 
as  in  trees  and  angels — who  that  believes  in  cause  and 
effect,  in  a  God  and  a  well-ordered  universe — who,  in  a 
word,  is  sufficiently  sinless  to  condemn  this  dangerous 
creature  to  be  stoned  to  death  ? 

Her  baby  was  truly  a  beautiful  and  wonderful  baby. 
He  was  born  with  a  profusion  of  black,  curly  hair,  which 
hung  in  luxuriant  ringlets  about  his  finely-formed  head. 
His  little  hands  and  little  feet  were  very  great  beauties. 
There  was  a  proud  stateliness  in  the  build  and  bearing  of 
this  little  boy ;  his  round,  straight  neck,  half  concealed 
with  curls,  harmonized  beautifully  with  his  head  and 
shoulders. 

The  magnificent  old  admiral  persisted  in  calling  the 
boy  "  Spanish  Prince." 

But  who  shall  describe  the  expression  of  that  little, 
princely  face  ?  The  full-orbed  black  eyes  seemed  to  be 
swimming  in  an  ocean  of  tears ;  there  was  an  inde 
scribable  look  of  terror  in  them.  He  seemed  on  the 
point  of  weeping  bitterly ;  yet  he  never  did.  He  seldom 
smiled.  "When  he  did,  sometimes,  apparently  overcome 
by  his  mother's  bewitching  playfulness,  a  satanic  shadow 
and  a  fearful  solemnity  suddenly  ensued.  The  corners 
of  his  little  mouth  were  curled  with  a  disdainful,  sarcastic 
expression.  His  eyes  haunted  the  beautiful  mother ; 
whithersoever  she  went,  they  followed  her,  looking  re 
proachfully  or,  suddenly  transported  with  some  mys 
terious  emotion,  bleeding  with  tenderness  and  despair. 

In  all  other  respects  the  little  boy  was  perfect. 

Now,  who  would  ever  imagine  that  thoughtless  Sophia 
— the  affectionate,  the  spontaneous,  the  ever-dancing  and 
the  apparently  ever-happy  girl,  so  very  young,  only  just 
entered  upon  her  eighteenth  year — had  wept  hot,  bitter 
tears,  a  whole  hour  at  a  time,  by  the  little  bed  of  her 


62  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

sleeping  infant?  Hour  after  hour  the  mysteriously 
wretched  girl  bent  over  his  little,  sad  face,  and  prayed 
and  prayed,  and  wept  with  all  the  flooding  agony  of  an 
overcharged  heart.  What  a  pity  that  honest,  intelligent, 
perplexed  Dr.  Du  Bois  could  not  have  looked  through 
the  distance,  and  beheld  this  Madonna  weeping  and 
agonizing  over  her  child ! 

"  Oh,  the  hateful,  hateful  past !"  and  she  wept.  "What 
a  wretch  I  am !"  Her  sobbing  might  have  been  heard 
in  the  adjoining  chambers ;  but  it  was  not,  for  she  took 
great  care  to  conceal  her  sorrow  from  every  one. 

In  the  excess  of  misfortune  she  heard  the  voice  of  a 
deliverer.  Her  uncle's  family  were  about  to  sail  for 
England;  they  invited  her  to  accompany  them.  The 
Cuban  physician  approved.  A  handsome,  healthy, 
motherly  nurse  was  obtained  for  the  darling  little  Prince 
"Carmo."  The  fair  young  mother  pressed  her  mys 
terious  child  convulsively  to  her  bosom ;  she  held  him 
passionately  in  her  round  arms,  and  smothered  him  with 
her  kisses.  He  was  blinded  by  the  flood  of  her  hot  tears. 
Then  she  knelt  down  and  prayed  over  him,  committing 
him  to  the  watchful  love  of  God's  holy  ministering 
angels.  Again  and  again  she  most  passionately  clasped" 
him,  notwithstanding  his  sad  face,  and  reproachful  eyes, 
and  strange  indifference.  Caressingly  she  pressed  him 
against  her  bursting  heart ;  then  she  kissed  his  sweet, 
pretty  hands,  and  showered  tears  and  kisses  upon  his 
beautiful  feet,  and  upon  his  handsome  neck,  and  upon  his 
princely  shoulders,  and  bedewed  his  snow-white  bosom 
with  the  gushing  tears  and  love  of  her  pure  heart ;  and 
then — 

She  was  gone ! 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  (J3 


CHAPTER    XX. 

"As  the  twig  is  bent  the  tree's  inclined." — Pope. 

GRACIATST  was  the  eldest  and  richest  brother  of 
Sophia's  mother — a  fine  old  Spanish  gentleman  "all  of 
the  olden  time."  He  was  remarkable  for  his  genuine 
hospitality  and  princely  style  of  living.  His  residence 
was  about  one  mile  from  Havana,  in  the  bosom  of  a 
luxuriant  grove,  and  connected  with  extensive  planta 
tions.  Beneath  the  house  were  numerous  and  well-filled 
cellars.  There  were  rich  specimens  of  carving  and  gild 
ing  on  the  cornices,  ceilings,  and  panels ;  and  the  em 
blazonment  of  heraldry,  here  and  there,  especially  in  the 
banqueting  hall,  furnished  conclusive  proof  that  this 
establishment  was  a  patrimonial  estate.  Some  of  the 
pictures  in  the  chambers  represented  bull-fights,  feasting, 
and  other  sports  peculiar  to  Spanish  countries.  Beauti 
ful  hangings,  stamped  with  gold,  decorated  the  walls; 
and  superb  musical  instruments,  bearing  marks  of  fre 
quent  use,  were  found  in  nearly  every  room. 

The  Dona  Gracian  was  a  lady  of  magnificent  assump 
tions.  She  had  the  warmest  fondness  for  the  richest 
jewels,  the  costliest  diamonds,  and  the  most  elegant 
styles  of  dress.  Her  extravagance  was  extended  to  her 
daughter,  a  plain-looking  girl  about  seventeen  years  of 
age,  and  who  was  particularly  delighted  with  Sophia's 
society.  It  was  but  natural  that  the,  ambitious  Dona 
should  be  ambitious  for  her  daughter.  Don  Gracian,  as 
was  his  wont,  generously  extended  his  best  wishes  over 
his  lovely  niece,  and  plainly  told  his  magnificent  lady, 
just  as  they  sailed  out  of  the  harbor  for  England,  that 


64  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

he  meant  for  both  young  ladies  to  provide  equal  oppor 
tunities. 

Little  Aragoiii  was  just  entering  upon  his  second  year 
when  his  beautiful  mother  sailed  away.  He  had  passed 
unharmed  the  critical  stages  of  lactation  and  dentition, 
and  seemed  impenetrable  to  the  assaults  of  every  infantile 
affection. 

The  motherly  nurse,  in  whose  care  he  was  left,  soon 
regretted  that  she  had  taken  the  charge.  "  She  under 
stood  children,"  she  said,  "  and  knew  what  was  required 
of  her  in  the  discharge  of  her  duties  to  this  boy.  But 
such  a  child  as  this  she  never  once  dreamed  of." 

Once,  confiding  her  perplexities  to  an  aged  female  negro 
servant  in  the  kitchen,  she  declared  her  intention  "to 
leave  the  island  of  Cuba  as  soon  as  her  salary  was  paid 
up." 

Time  slipped  by  and  her  intention  was  fulfilled. 

Then  an  intelligent  governess  was  procured  for  the 
little  boy,  and  after  that  things  went  better  with  him. 
He  seldom  cried,  and  seldom  laughed ;  he  never  fretted ; 
and  gave  no  one  any  trouble.  And  yet  the  old  nurse 
declared  that  "she  couldn't  sleep  in  the  room  with  the 
little  child."  Often  in  her  inexpressible  solicitude  for  his 
welfare,  she  would,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  not  daring 
to  sleep,  get  out  of  her  bed  and  see  if  he  was  not  dead. 
"  My  stars !"  she  used  to  say,  "  if  the  child  would  only 
cry  once,  and  stop  looking  so  everlastingly  hideous  and 
hateful,  I  might  bear  the  task  a  while  longer." 

In  fact  the  nurse  conceived  an  incurable  repugnance, 
and  insisted  that  "  a  spell  had  been  put  upon  the  child  by 
some  Indian  witch."  One  evidence  she  adduced  was, 
that  once  when  the  nurse  chanced  to  cut  her  finger, 
causing  the  blood  to  flow  very  fast  for  a  few  moments, 
the  little  boy,  seeing  the  brilliant  crimson  current  on  her 
apron,  suddenly  began  to  clap  his  little  hands  joyfully 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS   OF  CRIME.  65 

and  to  crow  with  the  greatest  delight.  And  yet  he  had 
not  for  weeks  expressed  any  interest  in  the  thousand  and 
one  little  devices  for  his  especial  amusement. 

The  new  governess,  however,  felt  differently.  She 
studied  his  temperament,  and  instinctively  seemed  to 
understand  his  interior  disposition.  Meanwhile  his  light- 
hearted,  pleasure-seeking  mother  was  traveling  with  the 
Gracian  family  in  Europe. 

Who  understands  a  child  ?  Is  it  not  to  most  parents  a 
sealed  book  ?  Spirit  comes  from  spirit,  and  body  comes 
from  body.  But  does  not  the  invisible  life  within  the 
blood  float  into  each  the  mysteries  of  both  ?  Schoolmen 
speculate  on  races  of  men,  and  they  profoundly  develop 
what  they  call  the  philosophy  of  history — which  may  be 
called  the  workings  of  Providence  in  the  growth  and 
march  of  mankind.  Now  why  will  they  not  look  into 
the  biological  origin  of  childhood?  In  the  germ  the 
whole  future  history  is  enfolded.  Who  sees  it?  Who 
sees  that  honesty  is  a  part  of  one's  constitution,  as  much 
as  the  color  of  the  eyes,  the  hair,  and  the  complexion  ? 
Who  can  trace  the  manifold  causes  which  push  them 
selves  out  in  these  visible  effects  ?  Whence  the  origin  of 
evil  in  the  blood  ?  or  of  disease  in  bone  ?  Children's 
teeth  are  set  on  edge,  because  in  the  olden  time  their 
progenitors  have  eaten  sour  grapes  !  Why  did  not  their 
fathers  or  their  mothers  reject  the  evil  ?  Who  and  what 
gave  them  the  wish  to  go  astray?  Ah,  gentle  reader, 
the  chain  can  not  be  broken.  Each  link  is  perfect  in  its 
place.  And  the  circle  of  human  existence  is  united  and 
complete.  And  in  it  all  and  through  it  all  streams  the 
saving  law  of  PKOGEESS  ;  and  thus — 

Time  rolls  all  things  onward  ! 


66  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

"  Our  lives  to  lust  and  vanity  are  given ; 
And  when  at  last  He  summons  us  above, 
We  stand  as  strangers  at  the  gate  of  Heaven !" 

The  Play. 

AT  the  Gracian  mansion  there  never  had  been  any 
thing  like  real,  loving,  sacred  home  life.  Don  Gracian 
was  descended  from  the  Old  Spaniards.  His  benevolent 
temperament,  nevertheless,  influenced  him  to  admit  to  his 
good  will  the  poor  Castilians,  the  industrious  Catalans  or 
Catalonians,  the  indigent  classes  of  Creoles,  the  native 
Indians,  and  the  imported  Africans.  His  superb  gener 
osity,  and  his  princely  style  of  rewarding  those  who 
voluntarily  bestowed  kindly  offices  upon  him  or  his 
family,  made  his  name  dear  to  hundreds  of  hard-working 
Cubans. 

Twenty  years  before  Don  Gracian  had  chief  super 
vision  of  the  vast  ship-building  establishments  be 
longing  to  the  Spanish  Government.  The  larger  and 
best  of  the  royal  war-ships  belonging  to  the  Spanish 
armada  were  built  from  the  grand,  old  forest-trees  that 
had  made  the  Gracian  estates  so  supremely  beautiful  and 
picturesque.  Every  rare  tree  indigenous  to  the  island 
was  to  be  found  upon  his  extensive  plantations.  The 
unsurpassed  mahogany,  the  durable  and  beautiful  lance- 
wood,  several  species  of  the  magnificent  palm,  the  fra 
grant  wild  lime,  the  fruitful  cocus-tree,  and  the  graceful 
Iignum-vita3,  numerous  orange  groves,  all  combined  to 
render  immensely  valuable  and  celebrated  the  patrimo 
nial  possession  of  the  hospitable  Don  Gracian. 

But,  alas!  that  greatest  of  all  sanctuaries  for  the 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS   OF  CRIME.  67 

human  heart,  that  surest  stronghold  of  all  true  growth  in 
moral  power  and  in  greatness — a  HOME,  in  the  true  sense 
of  the  good  old  English  word — Don  Gracian  had  not, 
neither  could  he  purchase  it,  nor  provide  its  divine 
"blessings  at  any  rate  in  exchange  for  his  real  estate. 

Therefore  he  traveled  with  the  three  ladies;  on  the 
plea  that  they  required  the  benefits  of  change.  There 
fore  poor  little  baby  Carmo  was  homeless,  as  well  as 
motherless,  in  that  magnificent  Spanish  establishment. 
The  glitter  of  jasper  and  fine  gold  could  not  substitute 
for  that  hope  of  man,  that  holiest  spot  on  earth  to 
woman,  that  mysteriously  sweet  sanctuary  for  children — 
a  HOME ! 

In  planting  of  the  seeds  of  crime,  begin  by  destroying 
home,  and  you  will  sow  to  the  winds  all  that  is  sweet, 
holy,  and  conservative  in  the  human  heart.  Break  the 
charmed  circle  of  home,  turn  the  bark  of  human  nature 
loose  upon  the  tempestuous  social  sea,  without  the  sweet 
influences  of  fostering  love,  without  the  golden  bondage 
of  sacred  ties,  and  the  work  of  evil  and  misery  has 
begun.  The  bloody  phantasmagoria  of  society  begin 
when  the  divine  influence  of  home  ends.  Had  the  genial 
Don  Gracian  had  a  true  home — a  place  more  attractive 
to  his  ambitious  and  pompous  wife  than  the  company  of 
of  great  lords  and  the  pampered  debauchees,  a  place  too 
sacred  for  the  perpetual  fandangos,  too  fine  and  tender 
to  be  insulted  by  the  gorgeous  pleasures  of  those  who 
indulge  in  bacchanalian  feasts  mingled  with  hideous 
shouts  of  wineful  song — he  would  have  stifled  the  seeds 
of  crime,  of  nameless  horrors,  in  the  blood  of  little 
Carmo  and  in  the  heart  of  his  passionate  and  beautiful 
mother. 

A  country  of  true  homes  is  a  country  of  true  greatness. 
A  strolling  gypsy  life  is  the  life  of  degradation  and  brig 
andage.  The  heart  needs  sheltering  even  more  than  the 


68  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

body.  So  a  false,  heartless  place  in  which  to  dress,  eat, 
sleep,  work,  fret,  swear,  fight,  and  debauch,  is  the  house 
of  sin  and  the  gate  of  hell.  Behold  little  children, 
innocent  infant  girls,  and  innocent  baby  boys,  born  and 
reared  in  such  hideous  places !  Not  one  sweet  memory 
to  bind  the  soul  to  the  saving  influences  of  home !  Not 
one  fond  thought  of  a  holy  mother,  not  one  recollection 
of  loving  words  spoken  in  the  ti'anquil  peace  of  a  home 
of  love — not  one  tie  too  deep  for  words  !  No,  wretched 
wanderer!  go  out  into  the  horrible  battle  of  life — cut 
your  own  way  through  the  savage  wilderness — every  one 
for  himself!  Alas,  this  is  the  reign  of  terror,  the  struggle 
of  tatterdemalions  and  social  savages,  the  battle  of 
hungry  tigers  in  the  human  forest — the  bloody  tragedy 
of  an  unprotected,  homeless  life  between  the  womb  and 
the  tomb. 

Oh,  ye  who  live  in  true  loving,  saving  homes !  Shed 
tears  of  pity,  and  curse  not,  for  ye  little  know  the  temp 
tations  of  those  who  live  in  huts,  hovels,  dens,  cabins, 
attics,  and  holes  of  crime.  Ye  have  not  the  faintest 
gleam  of  their  hardships.  They  do  not  themselves 
know  that  they  are  breeding  and  sowing  broadcast  the 
seeds  of  nameless  miseries.  They  never  felt  the  fertiliz 
ing  love  of  fond  mothers  and  sisters  and  brothers.  Their 
appetites  were  never  fed  by  the  delicate  dainties  of  affec 
tion.  They  never  knew  any  thing  of  a  holy  place  where 
the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  selfish  world  were  some 
times  not  permitted  to  enter — where,  in  the  mysterious 
sanctuary  of  home,  they  all  shut  out  the  tumultuous 
world  for  an  hour,  and  together  inhaled  the  sweet 
humanizing  confidences  of  true  hearts. 

Alas,  what  might  you  have  been  under  the  perversions 
of  circumstances  more  powerful  than  your  will  ? 


PLANTING  THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  59 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

"  Ah,  who  is  there  that  ever  quite  forgets 
His  fairy  land  on  love's  romantic  shore?" — Old  Song. 

GRACIAN  and  the  three  ladies  had  been  abroad 
about  three  years.  The  free,  frank,  and  fascinating 
young  widow  Aragoni  had  stepped  unintentionally  in  be 
tween  the  modest  and  plain-looking  Duena  Gracian,  and 
every  suitor  which  her  ambitious  and  pompous  mother 
had  contrived  to  introduce. 

One  day,  at  a  dinner-party  in  London,  Seiior  Gracian 
met  an  old  military  acquaintance,  an  officer  of  French 
extraction,  who  had  been  connected  with  the  building  of 
the  Spanish  Armada  in  Cuba,  named  Ermenonville  Ma- 
rana,  to  whom  he  forthwith  introduced  Madame  Gracian, 
their  daughter,  and,  of  necessity,  also  the  blooming 
Sophia. 

Ermenonville  had  a  countenance  indicative  of  a  ca 
pacity  for  great  achievements.  His  noble  aquiline  nose, 
slightly  curved  at  the  root ;  his  animated  eye ;  his  vo 
luptuous  mouth ;  his  features  easily  expressing  his  feel 
ings  ;  his  breast  wide  and  deep ;  his  polite  manners  and 
military  bearing — shall  we  say  it  ? — perfectly  charmed  the 
heart  and  the  imagination  of  the  susceptible  Sophia. 
Why  did  she  not  discern  deeper?  He  possessed  an  im 
perious  and  fiery  temper;  was  often  subject  to  fits  of 
violent  passion  ;  self-conceited  and  obstinate ;  entertained 
false  notions  of  honor,  which  he  gratified  far  beyond  the 
bounds  of  reason.,  and  jealous  on  the  slightest  provocation. 
"Why  did  she  not  look  beyond  the  fascinations  of  sense  ? 
Because  she  could  not ;  and  so  she  secretly  loved  her 


70  TALE   OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

uncle's  old  Cuban  friend,  Ermenonville.  He  was  sup 
posed  to  be  wealthy,  having  amassed  a  fortune  by  trading 
with  China,  and  was  the  proprietor  of  a  country  seat 
about  two  miles  from  the  city  of  Mobile. 

Madame  Gracian's  indignation  was  unbounded.  She 
thought,  when  her  Don  mentioned  this  gentleman, 
"  What  a  gorgeous  husband  for  her  daughter !"  In 
a  moment  her  feelings  of  interest  in  her  niece  were 
changed  to  vengeful  hatred. 

Addressing  the  genial  Don  Gracian,  she  said — "  Sophia 
is  not  fit  society  for  our  daughter;  she  is  offensive, 
selfish,  and  a  hypocrite." 

"  You  forget  that  she  is  an  orphan,"  he  replied. 

"An  orphan  !"  she  returned  with  supreme  scorn ;  "  she 
is  more  offensive  to  me  than  the  slaves  on  our  plan 
tation." 

"  She  inherited  no  fortune,"  continued  the  kind-hearted 
uncle ;  "  her  patrimony,  of  any  value,  was  long  since 
expended." 

"  Is  she  your  dependent  ?"  inquii'ed  the  pompous 
Madame. 

"  No  ;  but  she  is  my  dead  sister's  only  child." 

"  Is  she,  therefore,  entitled  to  your  patronage  and 
fortune  ?" 

"  She  is  entitled  to  our  bounty,"  he  firmly  replied, 
"  until  she  is  married,  when,  like  other  females  who 
depend  upon  their  husbands  for  their  daily  bread,  she 
will  have  her  own  tnaison — perhaps  a  chateau — with 
plenty  of  servants,  and  a  princely  purse  at  her  own 
disposal." 

"I  choose  to  take  my  daughter  from  her  society,"  the 
haughty  Madame  replied.  "  She  wears  a  hideous  mask 
of  intrigue  and  hypocrisy.  She  shall  go,  sir ;  and  that, 
too,  this  very  day! — this  very  hour! — this  moment!" 


PLANTING    THE  SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  71 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

"  The  world  is  too  much  with  us ;  cursing  still 

Our  slavery,  with  fettered  souls  we  go, 
Heaping  life's  measure  to  the  brim  with  ill, ' 
Despair  and  sorrow,  sin  and  shame,  and  woe." 

Winne. 

SOPHIA,  in  the  adjoining  room,  overheard  every  word. 
It  decided  her.  She  rapidly  penned  a  note  to  Ermenon- 
ville  Marana  : — "  I  will  be  your  wife  !" 

Then  on  the  instant  she  was  happy.  She  had  a  thou 
sand  times  silently  prayed  for  just  this  kind  of  deliver 
ance  from  the  pitiless  persecutions  of  her  unreasonable, 
jealous  aunt,  who,  it  should  be  recollected,  was  her  aunt 
only  through  the  mere  circumstance  of  marriage.  In 
an  instant  her  mother's  heart  returned  in  thoughts  to 
the  little  mysterious,  speechless  boy  on  the  blooming 
island  of  Cuba.  She  would  soon  have  a  home  for  him. 
The  flowers  of  sunshine  seemed  to  bloom  in  a  moment 
all  over  the  dark  path  she  had  been  traveling.  Her 
imagination  dreamed  out  a  future  covered  with  pictures. 
Then  her  aunt  heard  her  electric  laugh. 

"Heavens  !"  she  said ;  "I  hate  the  very  sound  of  that 
hypocrite's  brazen-faced  laugh !" 

At  that  moment  Ermenonville  entered  the  apartment 
of  Don  Gracian.  He  heard  the  bewitching,  spai-kling, 
exhilarating  laugh  of  the  adorable  young  widow. 

"Ah,"  said  he,  "  that  fairy  laugh  has  pursued  me  day 
and  night !" 

Don  Gracian  freely  expressed  his  gratification. 

Madame  looked  daggers  at  her  husband ;  but  she  pre- 


72  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

served  the  grace  and  grandeur  of  fashionable  Spanish 
manners  in  presence  of  the  Avealthy  officer. 

He  continued : — "  How  divinely  your  gifted  niece 
sings,  Senor  Gracian !  Her  singing  and  her  laughter 
sound  like  the  sweet  music  of  flutes  on  the  tranquil 
lake !" 

"  Superb  compliment !"  smiled  the  genial  Don.  His 
offended  wife  meanwhile  busied  her  thoughts  with 
schemes  against  the  too-much-admired  girl. 

Suddenly  Sophia  entered  the  room.  The  unexpected 
presence  of  Marana  confused  her  slightly,  but  instantly 
her  dark  eyes  were  flooded  with  delight  and  affection. 
He  had  come  for  her  reply.  She  danced  a  few  steps,  her 
sweet  laugh  ringing  in  the  room  like  a  silver  bell ;  then, 
approaching  him  archly,  slipped  her  note  in  his  hand, 
and  gracefully  retired  to  her  room. 

Ermenonville's  quick  and  educated  glance  read  the  wel 
come  answer  in  Sophia's  beaming,  happy  face.  The  agitat 
ed  aunt,  however,  had  not  observed  the  girl's  sleight-of- 
hand  performance  with  their  guest.  He  rose  to  depart, 
bowed  slightly  to  the  gracious  Madame,  and  motioned 
to  his  old  friend,  Gracian,  to  accompany  him. 

The  conversation  between  these  men  can  be  easily 
imagined.  Next  day  the  attractive  widow  Aragoni 
became  the  wife  of  the  splendid-looking  Frenchman. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

"Children  of  night!  unfolding  surely,  slowly, 
To  the  sweet  breathings  of  the  shadowy  hours." 

Hemans. 

IN  Paris,  where  there  are  no  heart-and-soul  homes — 
the  only  city  in  which  an  immense  homeless  population 


PLANTINa  THE   SEEDS   OP  CRIME.  73 

reside  in  hotels — the  bridegroom  and  bride  established 
themselves  to  enjoy  a  whole  year  of  honeymoons.  They 
lived  in  princely  magnificence  on  the  first  floor  of  the 
hotel.  On  higher  floors  lived  individuals  in  every  stage 
of  homelessness.  Under  the  same  roof,  and  up  and  down 
the  same  common  stairway,  lived  and  traveled  the  duke, 
the  millionaire,  the  expectant  prince,  the  artist  adven 
turer,  the  half-starving  proletaire,  the  organ-grinder,  and 
the  masked  assassin.  The  delicious  perfumery  of  the 
rich  mingling  with  the  unclean  smells  of  the  poor,  the 
unwashed,  and  the  silently  miserable. 

"Well,  who  cares?"  Paris  is  thoughtless,  Paris  is 
polite,  Paris  is  sprightly,  and  Paris  is  gay !  Paris  offers 
a  home  to  nobody.  Money  can  not  buy  a  home  in  a 
Paris  hotel.  But  everybody  is  free-footed.  French  feet 
are  winged,  and  ready  for  the  dance  of  life.  Everybody 
is  polite  to  everybody ;  for  they  are  not  strangers ;  they 
are  stopping  but  "  for  a  day "  at  a  glittering  and  com 
fortable  hotel.  The  men  can  go  where  they  please ;  so 
can  the  ladies ;  and  it  is  all  dramatic,  it  is  all  picturesque, 
it  is  all  suggestive — of  gushing  happiness,  or  of  sudden 
suicide.  It  matters  little  which  !  The  perfumed  ladies 
read  plays,  novels,  poems,  and  the  innumerable  feuilletons 
of  the  hour ;  the  gentlemen  visit  the  public  parlors,  where 
they  can  sit  for  hours,  read  the  journals,  smoke,  drink, 
chat,  and  so  forget  the  cares  of  life ;  while  both  ladies 
and  gentlemen  by  day  and  by  night  go  to  the  boule 
vards,  gardens,  balls,  operas,  parties,  and  theaters — 
wealth  and  glitter  weaving  the  web  of  a  fleeting  exist 
ence  with  poverty  and  despair.  Everybody  on  a  visit ! 
Nobody  saved  by  a  home !  A  vast  military  parade,  and 
a  royal  banquet  to-day  in  honor  of  the  reigning  prince ; 
to-morrow  a  revolution,  bloodshed,  the  scaffold,  and  the 
horrid  phantasmagoria  of  crime.  Oh,  charming  Paris! 
Oh,  homeless,  polite,  proud,  rich,  crying,  laughing  Paris ! 
4 


74:  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

You  help  philosophers  to  comprehend  the  causes  of 
revolutions  ;  and  you  teach  all  men  to  approach,  admire, 
and  depart. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

"But  this  is  not  the  drama's  closing  act; 
Its  tragic  curtain  must  uprise  anew." — Campbell. 

A  LITTLE  incident,  of  no  moment  in  itself,  happened 
one  day  in  the  stairway.  Monsieur  and  Madame  Mara- 
na  had  just  returned  from  the  boulevard.  He  was  pre 
ceding  her  up  the  stairs  to  their  door.  A  man  muffled 
up  like  an  invalid,  plainly  attired,  wearing  an  old  military 
cloak,  brushed  by  them  descending  the  stairs. 

He  cautiously  and  graciously  slipped  a  piece  of  paper 
in  Sophia's  hand,  and  immediately  disappeared  in  the 
thronging  multitude  of  the  street. 

Her  jealous  husband,  suddenly  turning,  witnessed  the 
stealthy  movement,  and  instantly  demanded  an  explana 
tion. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  He  snatched  the  bit  of  paper  from 
between  her  trembling  fingers. 

"  I  know  not,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  half  sorry,  half 
vexed,  with  a  slight  flush  of  indignation  covering  her 
face  and  throat. 

"  Ah,  madame !"  said  he,  bitterly  and  impatiently,  "  do 
not  deceive  me.  You  can  not.  It  is  impossible  !" 

"  Monsieur !"  said  she,  as  they  entered  their  glittering 
apartments.  "  Monsieur !  I  insist  upon  seeing  that  bit 
of  paper."  As  she  spoke,  a  collar  of  large  pearls,  which 
had  ornamented  her  throat  and  bust,  fell  to  the  floor, 
partially  exposing  her  perfectly  formed  bosom,  and 
revealing  a  similar  slip  of  paper  to  the  eye  of  her  jealous 
lord. 


PLANTING  TEE  SEEDS  OP  CRIME.  75 

"  My  God !"  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  astonished  at  the 
discovery  (for  she  had  no  knowledge  of  what  it  meant, 
or  how  it  was  placed  in  her  bosom).  But  she  had  spirit, 
was  consciously  innocent  of  every  thing;  and  so  proudly 
proceeded  to  remove  the  transparent  veil  that  fell  so 
gracefully  about  her.  Then  she  said — 

"Monsieur!  I  am  sure  you  believe  me.  You  are  a 
gentleman.  Can  you  withhold  from  me  the  knowledge 
I  seek  ?  I  ask  to  see  the'  writing  upon  these  mysterious 
bits  of  paper." 

He  handed  them  to  her.  She  took  them.  On  each 
was  written,  in  the  same  style,  the  one  word — "Jbudre  /" 

At  the  sight  of  the  writing  the  horrible  past  rushed 
like  a  tempest  through  her  thoughts.  She  cast  a  horri 
fied,  pleading  look  into  the  angry  eyes  of  Marana,  ex 
tended  both  hands  toward  him  imploringly,  and  dropped 
in  a  deep  swoon  at  his  feet. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

"  I  bless  thee,  merry  little  boy, 
Sweet  future  of  thy  mother's  joy ! 
And  oh,  may  every  simple  note 
I  breathe  along  life's  pathway  float, 
Gifted  with  music,  still,  to  charm 
Aside  from  the  impending  harm." — Green. 

MEANWHILE,  what  of  the  far-away,  mysterious  little 
boy  ?  One  day,  in  the  early  part  of  his  fourth  year,  he 
broke  the  dumb  tongue,  which,  from  his  birth,  had 
scarcely  spoken  a  word,  and  suddenly  called  aloud  twice 
— "  Mamma !  mamma !" 

The  astonished  governess  hastened  to  him.  He  looked 
darkly  upon  her,  however,  and  seemed  upon  the  point  of 


76  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

weeping.  And  yet  he  did  not  weep ;  but  she,  the  sym 
pathetic  soul,  covered  her  eyes  and  cried  like  a  child. 
As  soon  as  she  could  restrain  her  tears,  she  said : — 

"Mamma  will  soon  come,  darling  ! — mamma  will  soon 
come ;  and  then  she  will  stay  with  you,  darling ! — she 
won't  go  away  any  more."  Then  her  tears  flowed 
freely;  for  her  woman's  heart  was  aching  with  the 
fullness  of  tenderness  and  affectionate  sympathy. 

The  governess,  now  that  her  chai-ge  had  spoken,  felt  a 
new  interest  in  him.  His  first  distinct  word,  however, 
came  near  breaking  her  heart ;  it  sounded  mournfully  in 
her  ears,  and  pursued  her  night  and  day  in  her  dreams 
and  waking  moments — "  Mamma !  mamma !" 

Time  flew  on,  and  this  little  boy,  Carmo,  grew  rapidly. 
He  began  to  run  away  over  the  plantations  with  the 
neighbors'  children,'  invariably  taking  the  lead  and 
government  of  them  all.  He  was  never  happy  in  his 
plays,  but  always  exceedingly  active  and  terribly  in 
earnest.  The  children  all  loved  him,  and  they  all  feared 
him.  The  blacks  and  little  Indian  folk,  especially,  followed 
him  everywhere,  and  imitated  all  his  ways — his  motions, 
his  voice,  his  whistle,  his  style  of  climbing  trees,  in  which 
he  was  fleet  and  fearless. 

Letters  arrived  announcing  the  marriage  of  the  widow 
Aragoniwith  Monsieur  Ermenonville  Marana.  The  gov 
erness  was  grieved.  She  had  learned  to  love  the  strange 
little  boy,  and  dreaded  a  separation.  She  had  found 
another  fine  beauty  in  his  nature.  One  balmy  evening 
a  female  guest  at  the  Gracian  mansion  seated  herself  by 
the  harp,  and  performed  a  plaintive  piece  with  infinite 
delicacy  of  touch  and  feeling.  The  little  boy's  counte 
nance  suddenly  glowed  with  a  joyful  radiance ;  then  his 
lips  quivered  with  emotion ;  then  he  fell  forward,  buried 
his  face  in  his  two  hands,  and  sobbed  as  if  his  heart 
would  break.  All  this,  for  a  child,  was  remarkable. 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF  CRIME.  77 

The  sorrowful  governess,  experiencing  something  of  a 
mother's  tender  love  for  the  dependent  little  boy,  sud 
denly  clasped  him  in  her  arms,  and  said : — 

"  Why  did  you  cry  so,  darling  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  mournfully,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  Can't  you  tell  me,  darling  ?  Oh,  do,  now  ! — that's  a 
dear,  good  boy !  What  made  you  cry,  dear  ?" 

No  language  can  portray  the  indefinable  bitterness, 
mingled  with  a  reproachful  look  of  terror,  which  gathered 
like  a  shroud  upon  his  face.  What  mystery  was  that 
which  sought  expression  in  his  features  ?  Oh,  the  seeds 
of  crime !  sown  by  long-departed  causes  in  that  innocent 
constitution.  The  crucible  of  life !  The  elements  of  an 
individualized  human  existence  are  cast  in  the  fires  of 
passions.  Circumstances  afterward  determine  whether 
those  elements  shall  appear  in  the  character  of  a  devil  or 
an  angel. 

An  event  now  happened  (if  any  thing  ever  does  hap 
pen)  which  forced  many  human  lives  to  flow  into  new 
channels. 

The  long-continued  absence  of  the  Don  and  Dona 
Gracian  and  their  daughter  (who  had  not  yet  found  a 
suitor),  brought  a  series  of  disasters  to  their  rich  Cuban 
estates.  The  overseers  and  managers  had  proved  treach 
erous  ;  many  Indian  and  Catalonian  laborers  had  de 
serted  ;  Spanish  workingmen  and  their  families  returned 
to  their  native  country ;  and  a  revolution  in  the  fortunes 
of  Gracian  had  commenced  in  earnest. 

Meanwhile,  nothing  of  these  treacherous  mutations 
had  reached  the  generous-hearted  proprietor ;  therefore, 
never  dreaming  of  harm,  the  family  (if  rich,  fashionable 
strollers,  living  in  trunks  and  inns  can  be  called  a  family) 
protracted  their  absence. 

But  now  comes  an  important  event.  What  is  an 
event  ?  Something  that  hidden  forces  and  circumstances 


78  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

have  suddenly  driven  to  the  surface.  The  earth  groans, 
it  trembles,  hidden  powers  are  awake,  the  mountains 
sway  to  and  fro,  like  gigantic  forests  in  a  tempest; 
then,  suddenly,  the  ocean  pushes  a  mighty  wave  into  the 
air,  and  lo !  the  geography  of  an  entire  continent  is  for 
ever  changed.  Possibly  the  next  great  disturbance  may 
pass  without  producing  any  visible  effect  upon  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  It  may  shake  a  large  area  of  the  globe's 
face,  without  breaking  any  mountain  chains  or  chang 
ing  any  of  the  great  features  of  the  planet.  Now  is  it 
not  so — exactly  thus — in  the  lives  of  individuals  ?  Some, 
by  apparently  slight  causes,  are  instantly  transformed. 
They  succumb  to  the  shock.  All  pre-existing  accumula 
tions,  in  wealth  and  in  character,  suddenly  breaking 
down  and  disappearing;  and  in  their  stead,  whole 
mountain  ranges  of  vices  and  great  tidal  waves  of  crimes 
suddenly  appearing  in  their  subsequent  history.  Others, 
apparently  subject  to  profounder  disturbances  and  up 
heavals,  by  which  the  great  features  of  their  external 
fortunes  are  instantly  changed,  either  remain  the  same  or 
unfold  nobler  and  grander  attributes  of  character. 

In  the  event  about  to  happen  the  direst  changes  and 
the  bloodiest  crimes  were  made  instantly  possible.  One 
bright  afternoon,  while  the  governess,  at  the  Gracian 
mansion  was  engaged  writing  a  long  letter  of  items  to 
little  Carmo's  mother,  she  became  suddenly  alarmed.  It 
had  just  occurred  to  her  mind  that  she  had  not  seen  her 
precious  charge  since  he  had  run  out  to  play  after  eating 
a  late  breakfast. 

"  Lost !  lost !  can  it  be  possible  ?"  Frantic  with  alarm, 
she  communicated  her  feelings  of  distress  to  all  the 
servants.  All  the  men  and  boys  on  the  estate  were 
instantly  notified.  They  all  turned  out  to  search  for  the 
missing  boy.  Hour  after  hour,  until  late  in  the  dark 
night,  they  continued  their  search.  Through  all  the 


PLANTING  THE   SEEDS  OF   CRIME.  79 

groves  and  playgrounds ;  over  all  the  extensive  planta 
tions  ;  in  every  house  in  the  city  by  the  sea ;  down  into 
every  dark  cellar ;  up  every  high  tree ;  into  every  attic  ; 
among  the  shipping  at  the  wharves — in  vain !  in  vain ! 

Next  day  a  large  reward  was  published.  Minute 
descriptions  of  the  peculiar  face,  strange  eyes,  black 
curls,  and  singular  characteristics  of  the  lost  child  were 
everywhere  circulated. 

But  after  that  memorable  morning  the  little  fellow 
was  never  again  seen  on  the  island  of  Cuba.  And  the 
governess?  Distracted,  appalled,  grieved,  broken  in 
spirit,  afraid  to  meet  the  mother — feverish,  prostrated, 
sleepless — she  soon  sickened  and  died.  Poor  lone  woman 
heart !  And  poor  lost  boy ! 


PART   II. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  On  her  the  world  hath  never  smiled 
Or  looked  but  with  accusing  eye." 

Scenes  in  Bavaria. 

IN  the  year  1831,  near  the  close  of  a  gorgeous  October 
day,  the  noble  ship  Champion,  from  New  York,  entered 
and  came  to  anchor  in  the  broad  bay  of  Mobile. 

All  the  passengers  had  left  the  vessel,  save  one.  This 
passenger,  a  middle-aged  man,  affected  illness.  He,  upon 
this  excuse,  remained  concealed  in  his  cabin  until  the 
autumnal  shades  of  evening  had  settled  upon  town  and 
landscape. 

"  A  lucky  hour  for  my  business,"  said  he  to  himself,  as 
he  proceeded  to  muffle  his  face,  and  to  wrap  a  cloak 
about  him  against  the  cold  and  damp  of  the  night.  He 
was  a  stranger  to  everybody  and  to  every  thing. 

"So  much  the  better  for  my  purpose,"  he  thought; 
and  forward  he  quietly  and  hurriedly  glided  through  the 
streets  toward  the  road  leading  into  the  country. 

The  moon  had  not  yet  risen ;  and  the  night  was  dark. 
4* 


82  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

The  strange  roadway  was  difficult.  He  walked  eagerly 
forward,  however,  in  the  direction  which  a  citizen  had 
pointed  out  as  the  nearest  road  to  the  mansion  of  Captain 
Ermenonville  Marana. 

His  massive  and  showy  residence  crowned  a  romantic 
eminence  about  three  miles  from  the  city.  A  rude  bar 
baric  richness,  and  a  wild  profusion  of  costly  incongruous 
ornaments,  were  displayed  on  every  hand.  The  waste 
ful  excess  of  rough-hewn  elegancies  said  plainly  that  the 
original  master  of  this  habitation  had  never  been  refined 
by  the  breathings  of  delicate  sentiments,  nor  chastened 
by  the  gentle  influences  of  education.  "Wealth,  vanity, 
and  sensuality,  were  stamped  upon  every  thing  within 
and  without  this  once  grand  old  Spanish  mansion. 
Prodigal  nature,  however,  had  made  the  surroundings 
lovely  and  picturesque,  if  not  magnificent.  A  fine 
growth  of  native  forest-trees  shielded  the  residence  from 
the  cold  north  winds ;  while  the  plantation  on  the  south, 
once  so  beautifully  diversified  with  parks  and  lawns,  was 
now  overrun  with  tangled  and  long  grass,  beneath  once 
fruitful  trees  and  flowering  shrubbery,  still  dressed  in 
the  profuse  gayety  and  variety  of  the  colors  of  autumn. 
Above  the  tallest  trees  from  the  cupola  of  the  mansion 
could  be  seen  the  spires  of  the  town,  a  wide  extent  of 
plantations,  and  beyond  all  the  silvery  expanse  of  the 
broad  Mobile  Bay,  and  the  glittering  surfaces  of  rivers 
nearer  the  city. 

Captain  Marana  had  been  in  the  China  trade  for  more 
than  thirty  years.  He  had  accumulated  a  princely  for 
tune.  And  he  had  resolved,  long  before  his  marriage 
with  the  lovely  widow  Aragoni,  to  abandon  the  hazards 
of  traffic.  After  spending  a  year  of  honeymoons  in  gay 
Paris,  with  his  attractive  Creole  bride,  he  contemplated  a 
return  to  his  estate  in  Mobile,  where  they  could  spend 
the  days  and  the  years  in  idle  and  sumptuous  retirement. 


TREES   OP  CRIME   IN  BLOSSOM.    .  g3 

Destiny,  however,  had  written  out  for  him  a  different 
horoscope. 

He  had  loaned  from  time  to  time  large  sums  to  his 
old  Cuban  acquaintance,  Don  Gracian,  whose  immense 
estates  had  become  overwhelmingly  involved  by  treach 
ery  and  swindling.  The  unfortunate  Gracian,  in  the 
desperate  effort  to  rescue  his  large  possessions  from  abso 
lute  annihilation,  had  totally  ruined  both  himself  and  his 
friend  Captain  Marana.  The  latter,  however,  was  not 
fully  aware  of  this  catastrophe  until  some  three  years 
after  his  return  with  his  lovely  wife  from  Europe. 

Contrary  to  his  inclinations,  therefore,  the  captain 
again  embarked  in  trade  with  China.  lie  wished  to 
repair  his  damaged  credit,  and  to  acquire  property  suffi 
cient  to  maintain  a  life  of  luxury  and  elegant  ease.  He 
had  already  made  one  extremely  profitable  voyage  to 
China,  and  was  now  at  home  preparing  his  ship  for 
another  trading  expedition. 

The  passenger  by  the  ship  Champion — the  muffled 
and  cloaked  stranger,  who  was  searching  and  groping 
through  the  darkness  for  the  captain's  country  residence 
— had  stealthily  approached  the  .object  of  his  voyage. 
He  crouched  himself  in  a  thicket  beneath  the  parlor 
window.  He  breathlessly  listened.  He  heard  every 
word  of  a  savage  quarrel,  and  ground  his  teeth  with 
suppressed  rage. 

"  Oh,  Ermenonville !"  sobbed  the  well-known  voice  of 
Sophia.  She  was  evidently  endeavoring  to  repress  her 
tears,  and  was  making  the  greatest  effort  to  speak. 

"Silence,  madam!"  roared  the  tyrannical  captain. 
The  listening  stranger  heard  rapid  walking  to  and  fro  on 
the  parlor  floor. 

"  I  swear,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  and  when  I  swear  I 
sicear." 

Time  elapsed.      He  overheard  weeping,  and  meanings 


84  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

which  revealed  the  unutterable  agonies  of  a  half-broken 
heart.     Then  lie  heard  her  voice — 

"  I  attempted  no  concealment,"  said  she,  sobbing,  "  I 
had  supposed  that  my  uncle  Gracian,  who  so  well  knew 
my  horrid  past,  had  told  you  all,  all !" 

The  crouching  stranger  muttered  to  himself,  still 
grinding  his  teeth  madly,  "  I  swear  I'd  like  to  feed  my 
hungry  knife  in  the  blood  of  that  hellish  rascal." 

The  captain,  whose  whole  nature  was  now  aflame  with 
the  fires  of  jealousy,  violently  stamped  his  feet,  and  said : 
"  Leave  my  room,  madam  !"  Then  he  cursed  her  with 
terrible  oaths.  He  hurriedly  accused  her  of  every  un 
worthy  motive,  and  of  every  degrading  passion.  The 
violence  of  his  jealous  rage,  and  the  beastliness  of  his 
manner  toward  the  trembling  lady,  made  him  a  cowardly 
monster. 

The  stranger's  impatience  and  indignation,  meanwhile, 
were  increasing  almost  beyond  his  control.  But  he 
wanted  to  hear  the  scene  through.  Again  he  listened. 
He  heard  the  voice  of  the  terrified  lady — 

"  Oh,  my  husband  !  my  husband  !"  said  she,  pleadingly ; 
"for  the  sake  of  my  lost  son,  Garmo,  let  me  tell  you 
who—" 

"No,  madam,  no  !"  he  violently  interrupted.  "  Not  a 
word — not  a  damn  word — or  I'll  send  you  headlong  to 
hell!"  Still  furiously  pacing  the  floor,  he  added — 
"Leave  this  room  at  once,  you  beautiful  devil,  or  by 
Gr — d  I'll  end  your  treacherous  life." 

The  tempestuous  storm  of  passion  still  raged  in  his 
jealous  bosom.  He  raved  like  a  maniac,  and  roai'ed  at 
his  wife  the  most  frightful  epithets.  The  stranger  (who 
the  reader  must  now  know  is  Joudre)  raised  himself  on 
tiptoe,  and  looked  in  through  the  half-opened  blind. 
He  saw  the  enraged  husband  draw  a  long  knife  from  a 
sheath  concealed  in  his  great  waistcoat.  He  saw  him 


TREES   OF  CRIMP]   IN  BLOSSOM.  §5 

suddenly  advance,  as  if  about  to  strike  the  weapon  into 
the  already  bleeding  heart  of  his  wife.  He  heard  the 
poor  lady  shriek  in  the  agony  of  her  terror.  He  heard 
her  voice — 

"  Oh,  my  husband !  my  child  !  my  lost  boy !" 
Instantly  he  shouted,   "  Joudre  !   Joudre !"   and  then 
violently  pounded  the  window  with  his  clinched  fist. 


CHAPTER    II. 

"Then  welcome  be  my  death-song,  and  my  death." — Gertrude. 

Two  weeks  slipped  by.  The  transporting  power  of 
sailing  vessels  had  enabled  Joudre  to  visit  New  Orleans 
and  return.  He  was  accompanied  by  two  fellows  in  his 
career  of  crime.  As  Captain  Marana  was  walking  along 
the  road  in  the  evening,  returning  from  the  city  to  his 
residence,  shortly  after  darkness  had  enveloped  the  world, 
he  was  suddenly  approached  from  behind  by  thi'ee  men. 
They  instantly  muffled -his  head  in  a  thick  blanket,  bound 
his  hands  and  feet  with  strong  cords,  and  hurriedly  carried 
him  far  into  the  deep  forest,  about  half  a  mile  north  of 
his  own  mansion.  He  was  immediately  robbed  of  his 
money,  watch,  diamond  pin,  and  finger  rings.  Then  the 
fiendish  assassins  suffocated  their  helpless  victim  with 
cotton,  which  they  violently  jammed  and  packed  into 
his  distended  mouth  and  nostrils;  and  then,  in  the 
agonies  of  a  wretched  mind,  he  was  left  to  die.  In  a  few 
moments  his  unhappy  spirit,  so  far  below  the  image  and 
likeness  of  the  true  and  the  good,  took  its  flight  from 
the  visible  body. 

Meanwhile  the  distracted  Sophia,  who  knew  nothing 
of  the  tragedy  that  had  just  occurred,  seemed  buried  in 
the  unutterable  depths  of  grief.  Each  moment  she 


86  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

expected  the  dreaded  man  would  return.  The  memory 
of  his  frightful  imprecations,  his  fearful  invectives,  and 
the  expressions  of  his  frenzied  jealousies,  united  with  a 
constant  mother's  sorrow  fed  by  the  horrible  suspicion 
that  her  darling  son  had  been  kidnapped  and  lost,  and 
perhaps,  murdered,  overcame  and  crushed  her  heart  with 
an  indescribable  misery.  Again  and  again  she  had  con 
demned  herself  for  withholding  from  Captain  Marana 
the  secrets  and  misfortunes  of  her  girlhood.  But,  alas  ! 
her  heart  had  never  fully  confided  in  him  ;  she  had  mar 
ried  to  escape  the  persecutions  of  a  jealous  aunt,  to  be 
free,  but  not  for  pure  love. 

When  Joudre  and  his  companions  in  crime  had  put 
hundreds  of  watery  miles  between  themselves  and  the 
murdered  captain,  he  said — 

"Boys,  I  swear  I  am  happy  as  a  born  devil.  My 
tortured  mind  is  happy  as  hell.  "No  mistake  this  time, 
boys!  I  swear  that  I  made  an  oath,  years  ago,  that 
I  would  be  the  death  of  that  hell-hound,  Marana." 

Here  Joudre  doubled  his  large  fist,  and  grimly, 
savagely  ground  his  teeth.  He  then  continued — 

"Boys!  you  have  heard  more'n  once  of  my  sister, 
hain't  you  ?  A  more  beautifuller  girl  never  trod  the 
levees  of  New  Orleans." 

A  sudden  suffusion  of  tears  choked  his  utterance. 
Dear  reader,  behold  that  stern,  vengeful  assassin — as 
sympathetic  as  a  woman — reciting  his  awe-compelling 
story  to  his  comrades  in  crime  !  He  is  under  the  strong 
excitement  of  wrongs  far  too  well  remembered. 

"  Well,"  he  at  length  continued,  "  that  adder  of  hell — 
that  rattlesnake  ^serpent  in  the  mask  of  a  kind  gentle 
man — stung  my  beautiful  sister !  Yes,  I  swear  and  I 
swear  again  that  he  stung  her — the  most  beautifulest  girl 
on  God's  earth !  he  stung  her !  and  I  swore  a  hell  of  a 


TREES   OF   CRIME   IN  BLOSSOM.  87 

swear  that  I  would  trample  on  that  reptile's  infernal 
head." 

Joudre  stopped  for  breath,  drank  freely  from  a  bottle 
which  he  held  in  his  strong  hand,  and  then  passed  it 
round  to  the  boys.  Recovering-,  he  said — 

"  Yes,  yes — I'm  devilish  happy.  We  killed  the  old 
Pitra — the  old  Bat  o'  hell !  and  that  are  sister  is  now  her 
own  captain  and  all  hands."  After  a  long  pause,  he  added 
— "  Boys,  I  swear  I  hain't  so  damnably  happy  after  all." 
He  reflected  a  little.  A  big  tear  gushed  out,  trembled,  and 
dropped  upon  his  clinched  fist.  He  resumed,  thought 
fully  and  mournfully — 

"  That  are  sister's  boy  hain't  dead !  I'll  swear  he 
hain't !  and  I  swear  I'll  hunt  him  out  afore  I  die." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,"  they  all  laughed.  "  When  you  die,  old 
Joudre,  Uncle  Sam's  soldiers  will  have  a  hand  in  the 
funeral.  ISTow  mind  that,  Joudre  !  Ha,  ha,  ha." 


CHAPTER    III. 

"  My  daughter !  with  thy  birth  has  gushed  a  spring 
I  knew  not  of— filling  my  heart  with  tears." — N.  P.  Willis. 

THE  horrible  murder  of  so  distinguished  a  citizen  as 
Captain  Marana  roused  the  civil  authorities  to  extraordi 
nary  exertions.  Private  gentlemen  added  large  sums 
to  the  municipal  reward  for  the  arrest  and  conviction  of 
the  perpetrators.  Practiced  detectives  were  set  upon 
the  track,  and  every  possible  effort  made,  but  all  in  vain. 
Day  after  day,  week  after  week,  till  many  months  rolled 
by ;  no  progress  was  made  in  ferreting  out  the  authors 
of  the  diabolical  deed. 

Meanwhile  the  shattered  possessions  of  the  deceased 
captain  were  administered  upon  ;  at  length  the  fact  was 


88  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

fully  disclosed  that  the  widow,  after  liquidating  all  debts 
against  the  property,  was  left  absolutely  penniless. 

Although  having  suffered  long  and  deeply  with  the 
unreasonable  passions  of  an  exacting,  tyrannical,  and 
jealous  husband,  who  had  for  years  peremptorily  de 
prived  her  of  the  society  of  gentlemen,  and  although 
constantly  longing  for  tidings  from  her  lost  son,  still  the 
Creole  beauty  was  yet  young  and  unshorn  of  her  rare 
womanly  graces.  Her  ardent  nature  was  somewhat 
calmed,  however,  and  her  terrible  discipline  had  added 
to  her  beauty  a  certain  degree  of  power ;  so  that,  not 
withstanding  her  natural  impetuosity  and  affectionate- 
ness,  she  extended  a  controlling  influence  upon  all  about 
her. 

One  evening  she  resolved  to  write  a  letter  to  her  long- 
neglected  friend,  the  philosophical  New  Orleans  physi 
cian,  Doctor  La  Force  Du  Bois.  She  felt  painfully 
reproached,  however,  not  to  say  guilty  of  some  sad 
breach  of  sacred  friendship,  when  the  impulse  to  address 
him  suddenly  seized  her  thoughts.  But  she  obeyed  the 
welcome  impulse,  and  wrote — 

MARANA  CHATEAU,  MOBILE,  ALA. 
May,  1832. 

MY  DEAR,  GOOD  DOCTOR  D0  BOIS : — 

I  fear  you  -will  deem  me  a  cruel  creature — insensible  to  kindness. 
No,  no !  My  life  has  been  surrounded  with  difficulties  ever  since  I 
so  gladly  sailed  across  the  Gulf,  leaving  that  hateful  New  Orleans  for 
ever. 

It  is  ten  years  since  I  received  your  letter. 

My  heart  is  hungry — yearns  toward  all  that's  pure  and  beautiful. 
Oh,  how  I  long  to  be  beloved !  Sometimes  my  heart  is  overwhelmed 
within  me.  I  would  patiently,  trustingly  turn  to  Heaven  and  confess 
my  sins  and  pray  to  be  forgiven,  and  cast  my  soul  upon  the  compas 
sionate  bosom  of  my  Eedeemer,  if  only  my  inflamed  heart  were  per 
mitted  to  consecrate  its  boundless  love  to  some  object  worthy  of  the 
bestowal 


TREES  OF   CRIME   IN  BLOSSOM.  89 

Good,  kind  Doctor  Du  Bois  I  It  seems  as  if  I  were  beset  by  the 
iniquities  and  transgressions  of  others.  :  Can  I  escape?  "Where  is  holy 
Father  Malarm  ?  And  the  Ursuline  sisters  ?  A  heart  full  of  spiritual 
love  I  send  to  every  one. 

0  gracious  God  !  0  dear  doctor!  why  am  I  condemned  to  live  in 
the  midst  of  hate,  when  my  passionate  heart  would  give  of  its  abun 
dance,  if  it  could  but  be  truly  loved  in  return.  Can  you,  will  you,  dear 
doctor,  shed  some  light  upon  the  dark  wood  in  which  I  am  wandering? 

My  child,  dear  doctor — you  remember  that  I  wrote  you  of  him — do 
you  know  where  he  is?  He  was  lost  or  kidnapped  on  the  island  of 
Cuba  many  years  ago,  while  I  (God  forgive  my  folly !)  was  delighted 
with  adventures  in  Europe.  Oh,  I  want  to  truly  repent  of  the  sins  of 
my  past,  and  I  will,  yes,  good  doctor,  I  know  I  will  if  only  I  have  my 
darling  restored  to  my  bosom.  Find  out  every  thing,  doctor,  that's  a 
good  soul,  and  write  me ;  for  I  am  half  crazy  with  thinking  and  longing 
and  yearning. 

My  next  letter  will  be  longer,  doctor  dear,  if  you  will  only  deign  to 
answer  this.  Now  do,  doctor,  do.  Doubtless  I  am  thoughtless,  indis 
creet,  and  all  that,  but  my  affectionate  heart  is  never  ungrateful. 

As  ever,  lovingly, 

SOPHIA  MARANA. 

Impulsive  Sophia,  after  reading  over  the  foregoing 
hastily  written  epistle,  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  kind 
of  girlish  delicacy.  Shall  we  call  it  a  freak?  She  de 
clared  to  herself  that  it  was  too  affectionate  to  send  to  a 
comparative  stranger ;  she  declared,  moreover,  that  its 
imperfect  language  did  not  express  the  half  of  what  she 
wanted  to  say.  Provoked,  and  in  a  flash  of  impatience, 
which  got  the  better  of  her  will,  she  tore  the  letter  and 
cast  it  into  the  fire.  "  What  if  it  should  have  fallen  under 
the  eyes  of  some  unfeeling  citizen  of  New  Orleans."  This 
thought  somewhat  pacified  her  conscience  that  she  did 
right  not  to  risk  so  much  confidence  in  a  letter.  Still  re 
gretting  her  conduct,  she  re-seated  herself  and  began  an 
other,  more  cautiously  expressed — which,  unfortunately, 
she  never  mailed  to  the  good  physician. 


90  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

"  In  every  heart  is  found  a  cell,  where  only 

Sorrow  repeats  her  litany  of  pain : 
In  every  home  a  chamber  veiled  and  lonely, 

The  shrine  of  sorrow ;  there  the  dead  have  lain." 

Harris. 

THE  radiant  daughter  of  the  opulent  and  sensual 
Spaniard,  Don  Cairo  Marigny,  was  now  homeless  and 
penniless.  She  realized  her  situation  with  horror. 

What  resources  ?  None !  The  accomplishments  re 
ceived  from  her  education  were  fashionable  and  showy, 
like  the  jewels  and  gorgeous  apparel  she  had  obtained 
from  the  glittering  and  ephemeral  styles  of  Paris.  Once 
she  could  sing  and  laugh,  to  the  ineffable  delight  of 
society's  pandei'ers;  but  now,  alas,  only  tears  and  sighs 
came  from  the  grieved  angel  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart. 

Her  beautiful  hair  fell  in  rich  curly  masses  below  her 
waist.  She  consulted  the  mirror.  It  told  her  tlfat,  but 
for  the  few  light  lines  of  sorrow  here  and  there,  she  was 
indeed  very  beautiful.  She  was  not  over  thirty,  and 
young-looking  for  her  years  ;  just  approaching  the  zenith 
of  brilliant  womanhood.  She  ran  up-stairs  to  her  im 
mense  wardrobe.  There  was  a  strange  brilliancy  in  her 
beautiful  eyes.  She  took  her  rich  dresses  doAvn,  piled 
them  on  the  bed,  and  then  examined  each  one  carefully. 
Then  her  boxes  of  magnificent  jewelry.  Tears  blinded 
her  eyes  as  she  recalled  the  loving  hearts  which  from 
time  to  time,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  had  given  her 
these  imperishable  tokens  of  their  love  and  admiration. 
Her  imagination  became  excited.  "  Ah  !"  said  she,  "  I 
can  leave  this  horrible  place,  establish  myself  in  the 


TKEES  OF  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  91 

great  city  of  New- York,  and  teach  singing,  and  both  the 
harp  and  piano." 

Gentle  reader,  whether  mother  or  daughter,  suppose 
yourself  under  the  same  combination  of  circumstances, 
and  with  the  same  momentum  of  mysterious  forces,  and 
with  the  same  hereditary  bias  kindling  fires  in  every  part 
of  your  nature — I  ask,  how  differently  from  this  home 
less  Sophia  would  you  have  done  ? 

Society  has  educated  girls  to  be  dependent.  When 
they  become  women,  whether  married  or  single,  they  are 
absolutely  dependent  upon  men.  Her  virtues,  her  graces, 
her  vices,  her  feebleness,  her  maternity,  her  chances  in 
life,  all  depend  upon  the  man  who  earns  the  money  and 
builds  the  home.  Is  society  just  to  woman?  Was  it 
right  to  make  slaves  of  a  free  people  ?  Failure  in  ancient 
warfare  was  punished  with  servitude.  Why  has  woman 
failed  ?  Why  is  she  in  bondage  to  man  ?  Because  she 
has  never  learned  the  art  of  honorable  self-support  on  the 
battle-fields  of  life.  When  woman's  heavenly  function 
as  "  wife  "  is  valued  at  its  immeasurable  worth,  and  when 
woman's  divine  worth  as  "  mother  "  is  prized  at  its  infi 
nite  value,  then  indeed  will  society  be  just  to  its  eternal 
interests,  and  then  will  woman  take  her  place  by  man's 
side,  his  companion,  his  counterpart,  his  peer. 

Two  thoughts,  or  rather  two  impulses,  were  closely 
associated  in  Sophia's  mind ;  and  there,  in  effect,  they 
formed  but  one  bright  purpose — to  get  a  happy  .living ! 
Affectionate,  beautiful,  simple-hearted,  truly  benevolent, 
yet  she  had  strong  determination.  She  immediately  com 
menced  to  pack  for  the  trip  to  New-York.  Her  temper 
ament  was  spontaneously  warm  and  glorious  ;  it  kindly 
kept  before  her  large  eyes  the  bright  side  of  life.  Sud 
denly  she  laughed  !  The  first  time  for  weeks — for  whole 
mouths.  Its  silver-bell  music  electrified  the  servants. 
They  rushed  to  inquire  if  she  wanted  them.  "Ah !  no," 


92  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

she  affectionately  said ;  "  you  have  all  been  dear,  good 
kind  people  to  me.  I  love  you,  every  one,  and  shall 
never  forget  your  obedience  and  kindness."  Then  she 
gave  little  presents  to  each.  The  happy  Ethiopians  clus 
tered  around  her.  They  hoped  the  good  Lord  would 
bless  and  preserve  her.  Then,  like  mother  natui'e's  sim 
ple  children,  they  wept  about  the  warm  bosom  of  love. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  HER  soul  flowed  o'er  her  lips  in  holy  sweetness ; 
Her  loving  thought  in  living  music  rang." 

Old  Song. 

A  VESSEL  of  light  draught  conveyed  passengers  and 
their  baggage  from  the  Mobile  dock  to  the  majestic  pack 
et-ship  riding  at  anchor  a  few  miles  down  the  bay.  It 
was  one  of  autumn's  sunniest  and  holiest  days.  The  soft 
haze  of  her  golden  dream  vailed  every  thing,  just  enough 
to  subdue  the  sharp  outlines,  and  thus  convert  the  rough 
and  the  rugged  into  objects  at  once  smooth  and  beauti 
ful. 

They  were  soon  wafted  out  into  broad,  open  waters, 
and  bound  for  America's  great  financial  and  commercial 
centre,  the  city  of  New- York.  On  their  second  day  out, 
not  long  after  breakfast,  our  lone  traveler,  Sophia,  was 
politely  accosted  by  a  gentleman  who  had,  from  the  mo 
ment  of  embarkation,  manifested  the  most  respectful  in 
terest  in  her.  He  bowed  frankly,  like  a  perfect  gentle 
man  ;  and  presented  his  card.  She  received  it,  and  read, 

PEORGE  Jf.  JIUGGLESTON, 

Master  in  Chancery  and  Counselor-at-Law, 
No.  27  WALL  STREET, 


HEW- YORK. 


TREES  OF  CHIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  93 

She  had  seen  too  much  of  the  world,  and  was  by  tem 
perament  too  coi'dial  and  adoptive,  to  experience  the 
least  nervousness  and  embarrassment.  Moreover,  her  na 
tive  refinement  and  her  education  abundantly  shielded 
her  from  too  much  forwardness  in  her  address.  In  feet, 
she  was  in  all  the  proprieties  a  perfect  society-lady.  She, 
therefore,  gently  and  politely  returned  his  salutation,  and 
accepted  the  seat  he  had  that  moment  furnished  her.  His 
fine  personal  presence,  rather  tall ;  his  slightly  florid 
complexion,  and  comely  features  illuminated  by  intelli 
gence  ;  his  candid^  frank,  honest  countenance  ;  his  large, 
open  eyes,  without  the  slightest  mark  of  vice,  passion, 
or  intrigue,  formed  to  her  intuitive  heart  the  fullest 
recommendation  to  her  respect  and  confidence.  It  was  an 
unspeakable  relief  to  one  traveling  alone  and  bound 
for  a  strange  city,  and  especially  to  one  in  her  circum 
stances  and  with  her  purposes,  and  so  she  conversed  un 
reservedly. 

"  Madam,"  he  observed,  "  I  perceive  you  have  no  com 
pany.  If  it  please  you,  I  will  be  your  compac/non  du 
voyage." 

She  bowed  assent,  and  replied :  "  These  are  supremely 
pleasant  days,  are  they  not  ?" 

His  honest  eyes  looked  out  over  the  broad,  tranquil 
expanse  of  ocean,  and  rather  thoughtfully,  he  said : 
"Yes,  truly,  it  is  a  quiet  and  mellow  autumn  morning." 
He  seemed  to  be  recalling  something,  was  silent  a  mo 
ment,  and  then  added  :  "  Yes,  a  gay  morning,  but  cover 
ing  a  sorrow-laden  world."  Then  he  sighed  mournfully, 
and  continued : 

"  Pardon,  madam.  My  grief  is  not  yours.  I  regret  hav 
ing  yielded  to  it.  But,"  with  some  hesitation  to  explain, 
"  madam,  the  late  pestilence  in  New- York — the  merciless 
Asiatic  cholera — has  this  summer  swept  many  homes 
clean  of  every  darling  member.  Over  four  thousand  and 


94  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

four  hundred  victims  have  fallen  under  the  scourge. 
Among  them,  madam,  was  iny  pretty  little  rosy-cheeked 
boy — the  idol  of  our  home.  Do  you,  then,  wonder  that 
this  tranquil  autumn  morning  has  in  it  to  my  eyes  a  tinge 
of  night  and  gloom  ?" 

The  affectionate  lady  wept  with  undisguised  sym 
pathy. 

With  sympathy  for  whom  ?  The  angel  at  the  bottom 
of  her  heart  whispered  the  name  of  Carmo  del  Aragoni. 
There,  in  her  soul's  deepest  recess,  was  an  image  of  her 
own  darling  boy.  For  several  sacred  moments  the  two 
sad  hearts  sat  in  perfect  silence. 

"  Mr.  Ruggleston,"  she  at  length  said,  "  you  are  a  law 
yer,'  are  you  not  ?" 

"  True,  madam,"  he  returned,  evidently  pleased  to  so 
change  the  subject,  "I  am- a  student  of  Francis  Bacon 
and  a  follower  of  Blackstone." 

"  The  profession  of  law,"  said  she,  "  has  always  seem 
ed  to  me  like  a  foaming  torrent  of  angry  waters.  You 
lawyers  have  professional  quarrels,  rivalries,  and  per 
sonal  bickerings,  have  you  not  ?" 

"  Not  necessarily." 

"  No  ?    How  can  you  avoid  them  ?  ' 

"  Oh !  easily,  madam.  We  lawyers  by  profession,  having 
opposing  sides  to  maintain  in  behalf  of  opposing  clients, 
indulge  in  professional  combat.  That's  all,  madam,  I 
assure  you,"  said  he  good-humoredly.  "  We  seldom 
practice  upon  ourselves  the  merely  professional  animosi 
ties  which  we  bring  into  the  mucrones  verborum  of  our 
daily  collisions  with  each  other." 

"  Oh !  then,"  she  archly  replied,  "  you  lawyers  seldom 
practice  what  you  preach  ?" 

"  In  point  of  fact,  madam,"  he  answered,  "  there  is,  I 
firmly  believe,  more  fraternal  and  kindly  feeling  among 
us  lawyers  than  among  members  of  any  other  profession." 


TEEES   OF  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  95 

(l  Well,  then,"  she  rejoined,  "  with  all  my  heart  I  say, 
esto perpetua,  and  may  the  followers  of  Blackstone  culti 
vate  what  the  French  officers  call  esprit  de  corps,  and 
thus  serve  the  wants  of  mankind." 

The  unaffected  grace  and  spirit  with  which  she  said 
this  evidently  delighted  Mr.  Ruggleston  immensely.  He 
began  to  take  the  liveliest  interest  in  his  new  lady  ac 
quaintance. 

"Pardon  my  boldness,  madam.  May  I  ask  your  des 
tination  ?" 

"Certainly,  sir.    New-York." 

"  Ah  !  you  did  well  to  procrastinate  your  visit  until  the 
pestilential  cholera  had  exhausted  its  violence.  I  believe 
it  has  now  entirely  disappeared."  Then  he  asked,  "  Have 
you  relatives  in  the  city  ?" 

"  No,  Mr.  Ruggleston  ;  I  am  a  total  stranger." 

"  A  total  stranger !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Where,  then,  will 
you  direct  your  baggage  ?" 

In  reply,  she  told  him  her  present  situation  and  imme 
diate  plans.  He  gave  her  his  undivided  attention.  A 
blaze  of  honest  anxiety  lit  up  his  manly  face.  At  length, 
he  said: 

"  Madam,  it  will  doubtless  be  not  difficult  to  obtain  for 
you  a  well-furnished  house  ;  for  the  cholera  has  driven 
numerous  families  from  the  city  forever.  Indeed,"  he 
added,  "  now  that  I  think  of  it,  I  have  on  my  real-estate 
catalogue  a  pleasant,  neatly-furnished  residence  in  Hud 
son  Street,  fronting  the  popular  St.  John's  Square,  which 
you  can  take  immediate  possession  of,  if  you  please." 

Her  warm  heart  swelled  with  joyful  gratitude.  "O 
happy  fate!"  she  said.  "How  thankful  I  am,  Mr. 
Ruggleston  !  Please,  at  once,  give  me  your  terms." 

"  Seventy-five  dollars  per  month,  madam,  and  in  ad 
vance.  These  premises  belong  to  a  client  of  mine,  and 
his  rule  is  monthly  payments." 


96  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

She  clapped  her  hands  gleefully,  like  a  pleased  child, 
and  requested  the  lawyer  to  make  out  the  lease  immedi 
ately  ;  also,  she  begged  him  to  at  once  give  his  receipt 
for  one  month's  rental  in  advance. 

They  separated :  he  to  his  cabin  to  prepare  the  papers ; 
she  to  her  purse  to  find  the  sum  required. 

Presently  they  met  in  the  same  place ;  the  exchange 
was  made,  and  the  subject  of  conversation  was  changed. 

Without  mishap,  but  with  the  recollection  by  each  of 
a  pleasurable  voyage,  the  ship  arrived  at  her  pier. 

The  gentlemanly  lawyer  conducted  his  esteemed  lady 
acquaintance,  not  forgetting  her  baggage,  to  her  hired 
residence  in  Hudson  Street,  fronting  the  then  renowned 
park,  around  which  had  congregated  the  finest  dwellings 
and  the  most  aristocratic  citizens. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  I  SING  because  I  love  to  sing  ; 

Because  instinctive  fancies  move  ; 
Because  it  hurts  no  earthly  thing  ; 
Because  it  pleases  some  I  love.'-'  —  Song. 

TIME  works  mighty  changes  in  a  few  weeks. 

Soon  after  her  arrival,  and  after  procuring  servants, 
and  supplying  the  house  and  the  table  with  the  thou 
sand  and  one  items  and  necessities,  her  purse  was  com 
pletely  exhausted.  Carrying  out  her  plan  of  teaching 
music,  and  wishing  to  conceal  her  real  name  and  past 
history,  she  had  a  sign  fixed  to  the  outer  wall,  thus  : 


TEACHER  OP  SINGING. 
Lessons  on  Piano,  Guitar,  and  Harp. 

Unaccustomed  to  work  of  any  kind,  she  could  not  even 
keep  her  wardrobe  in  good  condition.  A  waiting  and 
serving  maid  did  every  thing.  She  regularly  dressed 
her  lady's  beautiful  hair,  and  arranged  upon  her  fine  per- 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN   FULL  BLOSSOM.  97 

son  her  apparel  for  the  reception  of  visitors  during  the 
afternoon  and  evening.  In  fact,  the  poor,  homeless, 
penniless  child  of  fate  was  at  once  helpless,  dependent, 
attractive,  and  proud. 

Day  after  clay,  and  no  pupils  !  Her  only  visitors,  the 
lawyer  and  one  or  two  of  his  acquaintances. 

"  Great  heavens !"  she  one  day  exclaimed,  when  the 
butcher's  and  grocer's  bills  were  presented  for  the  third 
time,  payment  being  now  demanded — "  Great  heavens ! 
What  am  I  to  do?" 

Hurriedly  she  wrote  a  line  to  her  faithful  friend,  Lawyer 
Ruggleston,  begging   the  loan  of   a   hundred  dollars 
and  a  further  extension  of  accommodation  on  her  rent. 

The. counselor  was  greatly  disturbed.  He  went  forth 
with  to  his  aristocratic  client  who  owned  the  premises, 
and  stated  her  case  in  the  best  language  at  his  com 
mand. 

The  gentlemanly  landlord,  who  had  a  flourishing  dry- 
goods  establishment  on  Broadway,  said  "  he  would 
think  the  matter  over." 

In  less  than  two  hours  the  wealthy  house-owner  was 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  Madam  Sophia  Lawson. 
Her  loveliness  struck  his  fancy.  He  said,  bowing  : 

"I  come,  madam,  from  Mr.  Ruggleston,  my  attorney 
for  many  years,  to  inquire  into  your  circumstances." 

"Oh!  how  kind,  sii',  how  very,  very  kind  in  you,  sir. 
Please,  sir,  favor  me  with  your  name  ?" 

"Never  mind  that,  my  dear  madam,"  he  replied, 
stepping  familiarly  toward  and  helping  himself  to  a 
seat.  "  If  I  can  assist  you,  pray  let  me  know  in  what 
manner  and  to  what  extent,  and  it  shall  be  done." 

O  the  kindness  of  the  aristocratic  heart !  O  the 
magnanimity  of  the  wealthy  New- York  merchant ! 

She  told  him  the  exact  truth ;  nothing  of  her  past ; 
only,  but  exactly,  of  her  existing  embarrassments. 


98  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

He  stepped  to  the  table,  drew  a  check  on  his  banker, 
payable  to  her  order,  for  the  sum  she  asked — one  hun 
dred  dollars.  It  was  done  in  a  business-like  manner,  ap 
parently  with  an  honest  purpose.  She  extended  her  soft, 
white  hand ;  he  shook  it  warmly,  and  then  departed. 

The  wondrous  web  of  life  is  rapidly  rolling  from  the 
weaver's  hand.  Beautiful  butterfly,  a  spider  is  spin 
ning  its  magnetical  gossamer  threads  stealthily  around 
thy  wings.  Oh !  beware,  beware.  But  the  fly  is  gayly 
unconscious  of  its  danger.  Why  do  handsome  evening 
gnats  fling  themselves  in  the  consuming  flame  ?  Why  do 
innocent  birds  sing  and  chirp  on  their  funeral  flight  to 
the  viper's  mouth  ? 

A  few  days  after  she  had  effected  the  loan,  the  miscal 
culating,  the  unbusiness-minded  Sophia  was  as  bad 
off  as  before.  Money  all  spent !  No  pupils  !  No  pros 
pects  !  She  did  not  hesitate  long.  Her  maid  hastened 
with  another  note  to  the  Wall  Street  attorney.  Its  con 
tents  resembled  the  previous  missive,  as  one  despairing 
appeal  resembles  another.  Again  the  merchant  pre 
sented  himself  in  person.  He  looked  in  her  eyes  like 
thousands  of  other  men  she  had  seen  in  London  and  on 
the  continent  of  Europe.  A  robust  frame,  of  somewhat 
burly  aspect ;  a  vigorous  growth  of  dark,  grizzly  hair  ; 
florid  complexion  ;  a  voice  rather  husky,  and  a  little 
slow  of  speech ;  self-assured,  slightly  patronizing,  and 
exceedingly  persevering  in  character.  He  called  after 
business  hours,  after  dark,  and  without  circumlocution 
proceeded  to  the  object  of  his  visit.  He  said  : 

"  Mrs.  Lawson,  I  have  a  proposition  to  make.  It 
seems  you  are  friendless  and  out  of  money.  Now,  I 
will  be  your  friend,  and  support  you  with  all  the  money 
you  may  want." 

While  he  was  speaking,  she  held  in  her  hand  a  golden 
crucifix,  beautifully  embellished  with  costly  jewels,  a 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  90 

present  from  good  Father  Malarm ;  but  suddenly  letting 
it  swing  down  the  chain,  she  extended  both  hands  to 
the  merchant,  who  at  once  grasped  them  with  undis 
guised  expressions  of  immense  gratification.  Then  she 
said : 

"  O  sir !  your  kindness  is  indeed  most  welcome — most 
welcome,  sir  !" 

He  smiled,  and  his  eyes  blazed  with  the  unholy  pur 
pose  of  his  call.  He  bent  forward  to  kiss  her  sweet 
lips. 

Alarmed  for  the  first  time,  her  woman's  heart  instant 
ly  divining  his  horrible  motive,  she  drew  herself  back. 

"  Sir  !"  she  said,  turning  upon  him  the  fierce  blaze  of 
her  Spanish  indignation  — "  Sir,  you  dishonor  me  /" 
Then  a  sense  of  her  helplessness  suddenly  flashing 
through  her  feelings,  she  burst  into  tears. 

The  persistent  merchant  took  fresh  courage. 

"  You  wrong  me,  my  lovely  madam.  Indeed  you  do. 
Now,  lady,  it  is  positively  cruel  in  you  to  do  that  sort  of 
thing,  you  know.  I  come  to  offer  you  the  free  use  of 
this  furnished  house  for  as  long  a  time  as  you  please.  I 
have  gold  and  silver  in  abundance  ;  you  shall  not  want 
for  any  thing ;  you  can  have  your  own  carriage,  a 
coachman  and  a  footman,  and  all  the  books  you 
want  to  read  ;  and  you  will  be  a  very  fine  lady,  (as  you 
are,  my  dear  !)  and  all  I  ask  in  exchange  is,  your  love 
only — that)  lovely  madam,  and  nothing  more  !" 

Before  he  concluded  his  speech,  her  tears  were  deep 
down  in  her  heart.  Her  dried  eyes  flashed  the  vivid 
lightnings  of  anger  and  scorn.  His  base  insult  filled 
her  whole  nature  with  irrepressible  contempt.  As  soon 
as  she  could  gather  her  breath  to  speak,  she  sternly  and 
majestically  said : 

"  Sir,  how  dare  you  utter,  in  my  presence,  the  holy 
name  of '  Love !'  Offer  me  a  house  and  your  gold  in  ex- 


100  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

change  for  that  which  is  my  very  life  !  Sir,  I  scorn  you  ! 
I  hate  you  !  Out  of  my  sight !  Jlegone,  sir — BEGONE  !" 
At  that  moment  the  door-bell  rang.  It  seemed  a 
miraculous  interruption.  Without  a  word  of  reply  the 
merchant  left  the  house. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  TRUTH  triumphs  there,  so  true,  so  brave, 

It  dares  the  dark  volcano's  wrath, 
Nor  shrinks  amid  the  fiery  rain 

That  strews  with  death  its  fearful  path." — Tribute. 

THE  maid  announced  a  gentleman.  He  sent  his  card, 
"  William  Morte,  M.D.,  New-  York."  He  entered  and 
took  a  seat  by  the  windoAv. 

The  curtain  was  raised,  and  passers  by  could  see  every 
one  within.  Many  ladies,  and  especially  many  gentle 
men,  almost  stopped  on  the  sidewalk  to  look  at  the  beau 
tiful  and  gayly  dressed  Madam  Lawson.  This  was  no 
thing  to  Sophia ;  for  she  had  spent  much  time  in  Paris. 

"  Lawyer  Ruggleston,"  began  the  caller,  "  informs  me 
that  you  will  probably  leave  this  house  in  a  few  days, 
and  that  then  it  will  be  for  rent." 

"  God  only  knows,"  she  mournfully  replied. 

"  My  profession,  that  of  physician,"  he  continued,  "re 
quires  of  me,  a  stranger  in  New-York,  to  establish  myself 
in  a  respectable  neighborhood." 

No  words  can  tell  the  depth  of  anguish  in  the  heart  of 
that  friendless  Creole  beauty.  Do  you  wonder,  reader, 
that  she  heard  the  visitor's  voice,  but  scai-cely  realized 
the  import  of  his  language  ?  Do  you  wonder  that,  so 
soon  after  her  encounter  with  the  tempter,  she  made  no 
reply  ?  He,  therefore,  continued  : 

"  Possibly,  Mrs.  Lawson,  you  may  be  disposed  to  un- 


TREES   OP  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  101 

der-rent  the  premises  for  my  Lying-in  Hospital  ?  In  that 
case,  you  can  select  your  own  room,  keep  your  maid,  take 
your  meals  at  my  table,  and  your  income  from  the  rent 
will  support  you  handsomely,  beside  satisfying  your 
exacting  landlord." 

"  God  only  knows,"  she  despondingly  and  abstractedly 
replied. 

"  If,  then,  you  agree  to  this  arrangement,  Mrs.  Lawson, 
I  will  bring  my  family  and  take  possession  immediately." 

She  reluctantly  consented.  Next  day,  Doctor  Morte's 
family  arrived.  A  woman,  with  a  hard-hearted  face, 
purporting  to  be  his  wife.  An  Irish  servant  with  a  pug- 
nose,  red  face,  and  unmercifully  cruel  eyes.  An  assistant 
in  the  hospital,  professing  to  be  a  student,  with  a  hooked 
nose,  thin  lips,  small  gray  eyes,  light  hair  and  beard,  and 
a  very  sinister  expression  of  countenance.  A  black  house 
dog,  chained  and  howling  in  the  back-yard,  and  a  parrot, 
screeching  and  jabbering  incessantly  in  its  round  cage  at 
the  parlor  window.  Doctor  Morte's  other  movable  pro 
perties  consisted  of  trunks;  a  large  number  of  cone- 
shaped  tin  cans  about  twenty  inches  long;  some  half- 
dozen  bedsteads  with  sheets  and  quilts  to  match ;  and 
a  large  box  of  roots,  packages  of  prepared  medicines,  and 
about  fifty  vials  and  bottles,  with  pen-and-ink  labels 
fastened  by  tacks  in  the  corks. 

Miserable,  desolate  Sophia !  The  new-comers  in  the 
house  filled  her  sensitive  and  refined  nature  with  feelings 
of  unutterable  horror.  For  her  apartments  she  chose 
the  front  room  and  the  adjoining  dressing-room  on  the 
third  floor,  (her  maid  using  the  latter  for  her  chamber ;) 
and  thither  she  flew,  with  all  her  rich  wardrobe  and  glit- 
teringjewels ;  then  she  violently  shut  the  door,  and  locked 
it  tightly,  and  bolted  it  strongly — against  the  whole 
wicked  world,  and  against  every  hateful  body  in  it. 

But  she  was  not  to  be  left  loner  alone  with  herself.     A 


102  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

pious  lady  caller  requested  a  conversation  with  her  on 
the  subject  of  religion.  Alas !  this  was  the  first  lady  who 
had  called  during  Sophia's  long,  miserable  struggle  in 
New- York.  And  why  ?  Because  the  aristocratic  neigh, 
bors  had  leveled  their  opera-glasses  at  the  graceful, 
showy,  dashing  Creole  widow.  They  had  remarked  who 
entered  the  front-door.  Her  maid  now  and  then,  and 
lads  from  Broadway  stores  bringing  home  her  little  pur 
chases  ;  but — oh  !  confess  it,  poor  sinner,  yes — all  the 
others  were  well-dressed,  rather  prepossessing  gentlemen  ! 
Not  many,  it  is  true ;  in  fact,  only  two  for  certain  ;  but — 
now  face  the  fact,  they  were  gentlemen ! 

And  now,  very  respectable  Christian  reader,  I  ask,  in 
all  conscience,  wasn't  that  reason  enough  why  respect 
able  New- York  ladies  should  avoid  the  suffering  stran 
ger?  "Yes,  yes!"  you  all  reply.  B3F°  Will  you  make 
that  answer  when  you  give  in  your  account  at  the  future 
Day  of  Justice  f 

"  I  have  a  few  tracts  for  you,"  said  the  timid  and  vir 
tuous  lady  visitor.  "  I  trust,"  she  added,  "  that  you  take 
interest  in  the  cause  of  your  salvation." 

Sophia's  memory  floated  her  on  swift  wings  to  the 
Ursuline  Convent — to  the  holy,  charitable  sisters — to  the 
great  congregation  of  worshipers  in  the  vast  cathedral 
where  her  voice  of  praise  had  mingled  with  the  mighty 
peals  of  the  great  organ — of  her  prayers  to  the  Lord  Je 
sus,  to  the  Holy  Virgin — and  she  replied : 

"  I  was  educated  a  Catholic,  madam.  Have  you  any 
thing  better  for  me  ?" 

Timidly  the  pious  visitor  handecl  Sophia  a  tract.  Then 
wishing  her  good-morning,  she  departed.  "Perhaps," 
said  suffering  Sophia  to  herself,  as  she  entered  her  own 
quiet  room,  "  this  good  lady's  tract  will  divert  my 
thoughts."  It  Avas  only  two  pages,  and  purported  to  be 
"  The  Testimony  of  an  Infidel."  She  called  her  maid, 


TKEES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL   BLOSSOM.  103 

Nellie  MacFarland,  and  both  taking  chairs  by  the  win 
dow,  she  read  as  follows : 

"Mr.  B.  lived  in  London  ;  he  was  a  man  of  good  abili 
ties,  successful  in  business,  and  possessed  considerable 
property  ;  his  manners  were  gentlemanly,  and  being 
lively  and  gay,  as  well  as  good-tempered,  his  company 
was  much  sought.  With  these  advantages,  to  which 
may  be  added  very  excellent  health  and  an  agreeable 
person,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  was  what  the  world 
usually  calls  a  happy  man ;  but  we  must  add  that  he  was, 
in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  an  infidel  and  blasphemer. 
His  greatest  pleasure  was  to  laugh  at  religion,  and  to 
burlesque  the  Bible.  In  company,  he  eagerly  seized, 
every  opportunity  of  declaring  his  sentiments,  and  of 
laughing  at  and  deriding  any  person  Avho  professed,  re 
ligion.  The  blasphemies  he  uttered  upon  these  occasions 
frequently  were  such  as  to  strike  with  horror  not  only 
the  persons  who  were  the  subjects  of  his  jokes,  but  also 
the  rest  of  the  company  ;  and  to  such  lengths  did  he  pro 
ceed,  that  the  more  moderate  of  his  friends,  Avhen  invit 
ing  frim  to  their  parties,  would  sometimes  require  him  to 
promise  that  he'  would,  for  the  time,  refrain  from  pro 
fane  discourse;  which  promise,  when  given,  he  would 
sti'ictly  observe. 

"Thus  he  went  on  for  several  years,  enjoying  strong 
health,  and  every  circumstance  which  could  contribute 
to  his  worldly  gratification.  At  length  he  was  attacked 
by  a  severe  illness.  In  a  few  days  the  progress  of  the 
disease  was  rapid;  he  was  alarmed,  and.  eagerly  in  quired, 
whether  he  was  supposed  to  be  in  danger.  His  friends, 
observing  his  alarm,  and  fearing  a  knowledge  of  the  real 
state  of  the  case  would  hasten  his  end,  concealed  from 
him  his  danger,  endeavoring  to  assure  him  that  his  illness 
would  soon  abate.  Some  days  passed ;  the  disease  in 
creased,  and  he  continued  these  anxious  inquiries  still 
more  frequently.  At  length  he  was  considered  as  deci 
dedly  past  hope  of  recovery,  and  it  became  necessaiy  to 
acquaint  him  with  his  danger.  His  friends  did  this  in 
the  mildest  manner,  still  endeavoring  to  buoy  up  his 
hopes,  and  to  prevent  him  from  being  alarmed  ;  but  the 
truth  could  be  no  longer  concealed ;  he  now  saw  his  aw 
ful  state. 


104  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Instantly  he  broke  out  in  the  most  dreadful  exclama 
tions,  crying  out  that  his  soul  was  lost,  and,  for  some 
hours,  continued  to  repeat  similar  expressions;  at  the 
same  time  groaning  deeply.  After  a  short  interval  he 
renewed  his  exclamation,  declaring  he  was  now  convinced 
the  Bible  was  true,  and  that  there  was  reality  in  reli 
gion,  and  expressed  the  most  earnest  desire  that  his  life 
might  be  spared  for  a  year,  for  a  month,  or  even  for  a 
week,  that  he  might  declare  he  icas  convinced  of  the  false 
hood  of  his  former  opinions.  In  this  state  he  continued 
for  some  time;  when,  feeling  his  end  approaching,  he 
renewed  his  earnest  wishes,  that  if  he  could  not  be  spared 
for  a  week,  a  day,  a  single  day  might  be  granted,  that 
he  might  warn  others,  as  he  hims'elf '  was  going  to  hell.' 

"  At  length  he  cried  out,  (Iam  sinking  into  hell ! —  Oh, 
the  burning — the  burning — the  torments  of  hell  /'  This, 
and  similar  exclamations,  he  continued  to  utter  while  life 
lasted,  (for  about  thirty  hours  longer,)  shrieking  and 
groaning  so  dreadfully  that  his  friends  all  fled  from  his 
bed-side,  and  even  the  nurse,  accustomed  as  she  was  to 
death-bed  scenes,  could  scarcely  be  induced  to  continue 
in  the  room.  At  length  he  expired,  on  the  third  day  after 
his  danger  was  communicated  to  him  ;  the  whole  interval 
having  been  a  continued  scene  of  horror  and  despair, 
which  the  pen  fails  to  describe,  and  the  imagination  is 
unable  fully  to  conceive." 

"  My  God !"  exclaimed  the  queenly  looking  Sophia 
Lawson,  after  finishing  the  tract,  "  does  that  pious  lady 
imagine  that  a  horrible  story  like  this  can  pay  my  per 
secuting  landlord  ?  or  my  bills  at  the  market  and  gro 
cery?  What  charity!  O  God,  Go  dl" 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  A  DAEK  and  scowling  frown  ; 
But  darker  scowled  each  eye." — Hoyt. 

THE  New-York  Morning   Gazette  contained  the  fol 
lowing  : 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  105 

$2.000  REWARD.  MISSING  I  Two  thousand  dollars  are  hereby  offered  for 
information  that  will  lead  to  the  whereabouts  of  Mr.  William  Henry  Benson, 
Dry-Goods  Merchant,  of  No.  169  Broadway.  He  was  last  seen  near  St.  John's 
Park.  [Here  was  a  minute  description  of  his  appearance.]  The  above  re 
ward  will  be  paid  to  whomsoever  will  produce  the  person  of  the  said  W.  H. 
Benson,  by  his  attorney,  GEORGE  W.  RUGGLESTON, 

Wall  St.,  N.  Y. 

Doubtless  it  is  our  province  and  our  duty  to  tell  the 
reader  exactly  what  had  happened  to  the  missing  mer 
chant. 

Returning  in  the  darkness  from  the  conversation  with 
Madam  Lawson  to  his  place  of  business,  he  was  suddenly 
seized,  smothered  beyond  speech,  and  then  hurried  into  a 
carriage,  which  was  driven  with  great  rapidity  far  up 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  island.  Two  men,  one  very 
young,  but  tall  and  well  formed,  the  other  middle-aged 
and  burly-looking,  entered  the  carriage  and  accompanied 
him  on  the  journey. 

The  vehicle  was  stopped  in  a  thicket  near  the  East 
River.  Here  he  was  hurried  into  a  small  boat.  The  two 
men  bound  his  hands  and  feet,  and  covered  his  head  with 
a  cloth,  so  that  he  could  not  see  any  thing  or  scarcely 
draw  his  breath.  They  plied  the  oars  with  great  vigor. 
In  less  than  an  hour  they  landed  with  him  a  little  north 
of  Green  Point.  Unbinding  his  feet,  but  otherwise 
confining  him,  they  forced  him  to  walk  rapidly  for  a  con 
siderable  time.  Then  they  halted.  During  all  this  time 
not  a  word  had  been  spoken.  Presently  they  unbound 
his  face,  leaving  his  hands  firmly  tied  behind  him.  He 
looked  about  upon  the  men.  They  wore  masks.  Then 
he  glanced  around  to  discover  his  situation,  and  found 
himself  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  large  cellar. 

"  Come,  old  man,"  said  the  younger  villain,  "  thei'e  is 
no  time  to  be  lost.  You  are  a  business  man,  and  you 
understand  a  fair  business  proposition." 

The  merchant  was  alarmed  beyond  measure.  He  could 
not  speak.  The  young  man  continued :  "  You  have  in 
your  pocket  the  keys  to  the  strong  iron-box  in  your 


106  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Broadway  store.  Now,  our  proposition  is  :  full  directions 
how  to  enter  your  store,  tliis  night;  full  directions 
where  to  find  all  other  treasure  besides  what  we  find  in 
the  box;  full  directions  how  to  avoid  the  watchmen 
about  your  premises — all  this,  old  man,  or  your  life !" 

Horrified,  and  realizing  the  magnitude  of  the  evil 
hanging  over  him,  and  concluding  that  all  resistance  was 
not  only  useless  but  dangerous,  the  merchant  gave  fullest 
information  upon  all  the  points.  Then  the  thieves  rifled 
his  pockets  of  every  thing  ;  secured  the  keys  to  different 
parts  of  his  store ;  locked  him  in  the  great  subterranean 
apartment,  and  thus  he  was  left  alone  in  the  pitch  dark 
ness. 

He  wandered  about  the  immense  cellar  for  what  seemed 
many  day — sail  that  dreadful  night ;  all  the  long,  long 
hours  of  the  following  day ;  all  the  dark  hours  of  the 
succeeding  night;  sometimes  sitting  on  the  straw- 
covered  floor,  sometimes  dozing  for  a  few  moments; 
all  the  time  unspeakably  miserable,  fainting  for  want  of 
food,  and  choking  for  want  of  drink ;  imagining  with 
horror  that  he  had  been  both  robbed  and  left  to  perish, 
shut  away  from  his  family  and  from  the  living  world  ; 
until,  just  as  he  was  becoming  unconscious  from  fright 
and  exhaustion,  his  captors  suddenly  arrived. 

"  Ha,  ha !  old  man,"  shouted  the  tall  masked  young 
robber,  lighting  a  lantern,  "we  had  to  wait.  Things 
went  hard  with  us.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Here  are  all  your 
sacks,  old  man!  Let's  count  'em,  boys.  Fourteen! 
Ha,  ha,  ha  !  Now,  let's  count  the  gold  and  silver." 

The  two  robbers  were  now  joined  by  three  others  who 
had  just  entered  by  another  passage. 

They  seated  themselves  on  the  straw,  opened  the 
sacks,  and  began  to  count.  Meanwhile  their  profanity 
and  their  heartless  speeches  terrified  the  merchant,  who 
all  this  time  was  compelled  to  witness  the  destruction 


TREES  OF  CRIME  EST  FULL  BLOSSOM.  107 

of  his  miserly  accumulations.  They  counted  eight  sacks, 
each  containing  one  thousand  dollars  in  gold;  four 
thousand  dollars  in  silver  in  three  other  sacks;  two 
sacks  of  small,  silver  and  copper  coin  amounting  to  sev 
eral  hundred  dollars;  and  one  sack,  larger  than  either 
of  the  others,  containing  gold  and  silver  watches,  a  pearl 
necklace,  and  many  costly  finger-rings,  which  the  mer 
chant  was  obliged  to  confess  he  had  taken  from  different 
tenants  in  New-York  in  payment  for  rent.  He  acknow 
ledged  that  he  had  often  taken  trinkets  from  poor  mecha 
nics  and  unfortunate  laboring-men  whose  families  occu 
pied  his  tenements. 

"  Old  man,"  said  the  leading  villain  sternly,  "  you 
will  now  be  taken  across  the  river.  One  mile  north  of 
Canal  Street  you  will  be  unbound,  and  left  to  find  your 
own  way.  Now,  mark!  We  know  you,  you  don't  know 
us.  We  kntnv  where  you  live  ;  you  don't  know  where 
we  live.  Try  to  find  us,  and  you  will  fail.  Have  a  care, 
old  man,  for  we  won't  fail  when  we  set  out  to  find  you." 
Then  the  assassins  all  gathered  together  before  him 
and  took  an  oath,  loaded  with  the  most  shocking  blas 
phemies,  in  the  name  of  the  "  Eternal  Viper,"  which  re- 
sembted  a  sword  held  up  in  the  air  by  the  tall  chieftain, 
declaring  that  they  would  follow  to  "  death's  end,"  and 
through  "hell-gate"  into  the  very  "belly  of  hell"  it 
self,  every  New-York  merchant  and  every  aristocrat 
who  filled  his  coffers  by  cheating  and  by  oppressing  the 
God-damned  poor  of  the  city.  After  swearing  thus,  they 
indulged  in  a  song  of  triumph.  Then  two  of  the  ruifians 
conveyed  Mr.  Benson,  already  half-dead,  and  set  him 
down  at  the  place  appointed.  It  was  the  darkest  night 
of  the  season.  At  day-break  he  began  to  see  his  way 
into  the  city.  His  arrival,  with  his  hair  whitened  with 
terror,  his  features  shriveled  from  bodily  exhaustion, 
and  his  brain  incapable  of  forming  the  least  judgment 


108  TALE  OF-  A  PHYSICIAN. 

of  where  he  had  been  taken  or  by  whom,  the  excitement 
among  his  fellow-citizens  became  intense.  The  knowledge 
of  his  great  losses  by  robbery  had  already  spread 
throughout  the  community.  Notwithstanding  their 
constant  exertions,  the  law-officers  discovered  nothing. 
The  merchant,  although  he  continued  in  business,  never 
entirely  recovered  from  either  the  physical,  mental,  or 
financial  effects  of  the  terrible  shock. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  HERE  are  foes  well  worth  the  fighting, 
Here  are  wrongs  well  worth  the  righting." 

Earth's  Battle-Field. 

LET  us  return  to  the  third  story,  front  room,  in  Hud 
son  Street. 

Madam.Sophia  Lawson,  by  which  name  we  now  know 
the  disheartened  wanderer,  is  looking  from  her  window 
upon  St.  John's  Park.  It  is  the  stormiest,  darkest,  most 
cheerless  day  of  a  very  severe  winter.  The  frost-minstrel, 
in  the  exercise  of  his  wild  and  eccentric  arts,  is  construct 
ing  his  leafy  harps  upon  every  pane  of  glass.  The  bare 
and  shrieking  trees,  lashed  by  the  whip  of  an  angry 
tempest,  force  their  fierce  lamentations  into  the  listen 
ing  ear. 

"  O  Nellie,  Nellie  !  come  here  quick.  Do  look  out 
at  this  terrible  storm." 

Nellie,  a  pretty  and  sprightly  maid  of  Erin,  hastened 
to  the  window.  "  Oh,  oh,  oh  !  it's  awful,  mum." 

Madam  Lawson's  eyes  were  that  moment  looking  re 
trospectively  into  the  sere  meadows ;  into  the  bare  rose- 
trees  and  stricken  woods ;  into  the  lowering  storms ; 
into  dreadful  shadows ;  into  the  eyes  of  fierce  hawks 
that  had  destroyed  the  sweet  singing-birds  in  her  life — 


TREES  OF  CHIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  109 

yes,  into  the  strange,  wild,  stormy,  wintry  past  she  was 
silently  looking,  and  do  you  wonder  that  her  aching 
heart  groaned,  and  that  mournfully  she  said : 

"  Nellie  dear,  now  that  we  are  alone,  I  will  tell  you 
that  I  wish  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  that  I  could  die 
this  very  hour." 

"  O  mum  !  don't  talk  so  ;  you  frighten  me  dreadfully." 

"  I  am  in  earnest,  Nellie  ;  for  my  breaking  heart  is  op 
pressed  with  pain  and  weary  with  care ;  and  nobody 
loves  me,  Nellie — not  a  living  soul  cares  whether  I  live 
or  starve.  Yes,  child,  I  am  in  earnest." 

"  Oh !  I  love  you,  mum,"  Nellie  interrupted,  throwing 
her  strong,  red  arms  about  the  fair  neck  of  the  lovely 
Creole — "  I  do  love  you,  mum,  and  I  will  do  every  thing 
for  you  as  long  as  I  live."  Then  she  cried  as  though 
her  heart  would  break. 

"  Nellie,"  said  her  mistress  in  tones  half-mournful 
and  half-angry,  "  Nellie,  stand  off!  It  curdles  the  very 
blood  in  my  heart  to  see  any  body  pity  ME  !" 

The  astonished  and  half-frightened  maid  quickly 
stepped  back,  and  seated  herself  on  a  low  bench  by  a 
large  open  trunk.  She  looked  offended  and  sullen. 

"  Nellie,"  the  suffering  lady  continued,  "  you  talk  like 
a  sweet  and  amiable  little  fool !" 

The  maid's  Hibernian  blood  was  now  at  the  boiling- 
point.  She  quivered  with  rage.  Every  thing  seemed  to 
quake  around  her.  The  expression  of  her  eyes  (which  is 
common  with  the  enslaved  classes  of  that  people)  was 
timid,  yet  red-hot  with  spitefulness.  Suddenly  she  rose 
to  her  feet,  and  said  fiercely : 

"  Pay  me  what  ye  owes  me — pay  me  what  ye  owes 
me,  mum.  I  won't  stay  with  a  foine,  pretty,  proud  lady 
who  han't  got  no  cent  of  money.  Oh !  ye're  a  pretty  one, 
trying  to  lord  it  over  a  poor,  hard-working  girl  the 
likes  o'  me.  Oh  !  such  a  foine  lady,  sure.  By  the  holy 
Quaks,  mum,  I  wants  my  money  this  minute — now" 


110  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"Don't  talk  like  a  little  fool,  Nellie,"  said  Madam 
Lawson,  somewhat  softened.  "  You  know  I  have  not  a 
dollar  over  my  rent  for  any  thing.  But  don't  be  afraid, 
Nellie  dear ;  you  shall  be  paid  every  penny." 

Nellie  cooled  a  little,  and  said:  "I'd  likes  to  know 
how,  mum."  Then  she  carefully  sprinkled  a  rose-bush 
by  the  window  with  a  little  warm  water,  and  looked 
down  upon  it  with  "  a  smile  on  her  lip  and  a  tear  in  her 
eye."  Then  she  went  back  to  her  seat  by  the  open 
trunk. 

"  It's  none  of  my  business,  mum,"  she  said,  "  but 
couldn't  you  get  heaps  of  gold  for  your  rich  jewelry?" 
And  she  looked  down  into  the  tray  of  the  trunk  so  full 
of  boxes  of  costly  ornaments. 

"Right,  right,  Nellie  dear!  Bring  them  all  to  me. 
Let's  sort  them  out;  then  take  a  list  of  every  thing; 
and  then — why,  Nelly,  I  shall  get  at  least  two  thousand 
dollars  for  all  these  exquisite  beauties  !" 

They  commenced.  As  one  after  another  of  the  "gifts 
of  love  "  passed  under  review,  tears  began  to  blind  the 
dark,  tender  eyes  of  the  unhappy  Creole  widow. 

"  Oh  !"  she  passionately  sobbed, "  my  heart  will  break. 
It  will,  Nellie — I  know  niy  poor  heart  will  break !"  And 
she  hid  her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  wept  like  a 
child  suddenly  bereft  of  its  mother's  sheltering  love. 

But  Nellie  worked  on,  highly  pleased  with  the  glit 
tering  gems  and  shining  gold,  and  soon  the  list  was  fully 
made  out. 

Sophia's  boxes  of  diamonds  and  whole  sets  of  jewelry, 
adapted  to  different  public  occasions,  and  to  different 
styles  and  colors  of  dress,  could  not  have  been  purchas 
ed  for  less  than  fifteen  thousand  dollars !  Of  this  she 
had  not,  and  never  had,  the  least  appreciative  concep 
tion.  Her  wealthy  parents,  her  lavish  uncle,  the  rare 
bridal  gifts  presented  by  her  two  Imsbands  in  the  flush 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  Ill 

of  their  passion  and  admiration,  and  the  rich  tokens  from 
wealthy  acquaintances  in  Paris  and  London — all  so  sup 
plied  her  with  costly  varieties,  and  that  so  continually, 
that  she  could  not  value  them  by  a  money  standard,  but 
only  as  symbols  of  love  and  passion  long  since  dead  and 
forgotten ;  not  "  forgotten  "  by  her  suffering  heart !  She 
did  not  know  the  real  value  of  a  dollar,  much  less 
of  a  hundred  dollars ;  because  she  had  never  worked  at 
any  thing,  and  could  not  understand  how  long  and  how 
wearily  a  poor  person  must  labor  to  earn  a  few  dollars 
by  which  to  frighten  "  the  wolf  from  their  doors  "  dur 
ing  the  cold  and  chillins:  frosts  of  winter. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  PAUSE  not,  but  increase  your  speed : 
In  this  march  there's  constant  need." 

Earth's  Battle. 

THE  valuable  collection  of  gems  and  diamonds  was 
emptied  and  nicely  assorted  into  one  large  box,  which 
was  placed  on  the  bureau  in  front  of  the  oft-consulted 
mirror. 

While  rummaging  over  the  trunk,  Sophia  found  a 
great  treasure.  It  was  the  letter  of  good,  honest,  philo 
sophical  Doctor  Du  Bois,  whose  awkward  expressions  of 
love  had  once,  in  sunnier  days,  on  the  blooming  island  of 
Cuba,  occasioned  her  such  jolly  amusement. 

Again  and  again  she  read  it,  and  every  time  the  full 
power  of  the  last  line  entered  her  heart  like  a  dagger : 
"  If  ever  you  should  need  a  friend!"  In  her  present 
helpless  circumstances,  did  she  not "  need  a  friend  ?"  Ah ! 
she  once  repelled  from  her  a  "  treasure"  that  was  hon 
estly  and  freely  offered.  Now,alas !  alas !  w7tere,  oh  !  where 
under  the  blue  heavens — oh  !  where  over  the  rolling  years 


112  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

could  she  find  Avhat  she  had,  in  her  thoughtless  and 
guilty  folly,  ruthlessly  trampled  beneath  her  dancing 
feet? 

The  room  was  nearly  darkened  by  the  storm  and  the 
rapid  approach  of  night. 

"  Nellie,"  said  Madam  Lawson,  breaking  a  long-con 
tinued  silence,  "  I  wonder  why  that  storekeeper  don't 
send  home  the  plain  dress  pattern  I  purchased  yesterday." 

Strangely  enough,  even  while  she  was  uttering  these 
few  words,  the  street-door  bell  rang,  and  up  the  two 
flights  of  stairs  rushed  the  store  errand-boy  with  the  de 
sired  package.  "  Wait  a  moment,  boy,"  said  Sophia, "  till 
I  step  in  the  adjoining  room  to  show  my  choice  to  Nellie. 
Perhaps  I  shall  change  my  mind,  and  may  wish  you  to 
take  it  back." 

Politely  the  youngster  signified  his  willingness  to  ac 
commodate.  She  returned  with  Nellie  in  a  few  moments, 
but — oh  !  horrible — the  boy  and  the  box  of  jewels  and 
diamonds  were  gone,  GONE  ! 

Screaming,  mistress  and  maid  fled  down-stairs,  opened 
the  front-door,  and  looked  out  into  the  darkness  and 
storm ;  but  what  could  they  see,  what  could  they  hear  ? 
Only  tho  bare  and  shrieking  trees  in  the  park.  Only  the 
howling  and  moaning  of  a  merciless  tempest. 

In  Sophia's  true  Spanish  blood  there  were  the  heroic 
qualities — adventure,  daring,  fortitude,  courage,  power, 
pride. 

"  Come !  quick,  Nellie — keep  your  breath— run,  run  !" 
They  rushed  into  the  store.'  "  Where's  your  errand-boy 
with  my  box  of  jewels  ?  Answer  me,  sir — where  is  he  ? 
The  young  robber,  the  thief — your  porter,  sir — where, 
sir,  where  ?" 

The  storekeeper,  almost  overcome  with  astonishment, 
could  scarcely  reply  respectfully  :  "  Madam,  I  told  my 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  113 

errand-boy  to  take  home  your  parcel,  then  get  his  supper, 
and  return  in  time  to  put  up  the  shutters  and  close  the 
store."  Then  he  managed  to  add,  "  Wait  a  few  mo 
ments,  madam.  He'll  soon  return.  There  is  some  mis 
take  about  the  affair,  madam,  I  can  assure  you  there  is ; 
for  an  honester  boy  and  a  smarter  boy  than  Fred  Wilson 
never  lived,  I  can  assure  you." 

"  Where  does  he  get  his  supper,  sir  ?"  she  demanded. 
"  Where  does  he  live  ?" 

"  In  the  family  of  young  Captain  John  Nelson,  madam." 

"  Who  is  he,  and  what's  his  street  and  number  ?" 

"  Captain  Nelson  is  a  member  of  our  detective  police 
corps,"  replied  the  storekeeper.  "He  introduced  tho 
boy  to  me  about  six  months  ago.  A  very  excellent  boy, 
madam — smart,  quick,  always  on  the  spring,  sees  every 
thing  at  a  glance — and  an  honester  and  a  better  boy  can 
not  be  found  in  New-York." 

"  Please  inform  me,  sir,  on  the  instant,  where  lives 
this  Captain  Nelson  ?" 

The  tradesman  suddenly  recollected  that  he  never  had 
exactly  known  the  address  of  the  familiar  detective. 
"  Somewhere  in  Orchard  Street,  madam.  Not  far  from 
the  Bowery,  I  think ;  I  don't  know  the  exact  figures  on 
his  door." 

Madam  and  maid  waited  and  waited — oh !  with  how 
much  ill-concealed  impatience,  with  how  many  terrible 
thoughts  and  feelings — until  long  after  closing-time ;  but 
no  boy  returned.  No  restoration  of  thousands  of  dollars 
of  jewelry.  Storm  without  and  storm  within  ;  winter 
without  and  winter  within. 

Lost  boy  !  lost  gems !  lost  lady  !  lost  maid  ! 


114  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

FOR  the  wronged  ones  well  he  fought ; 

For  the  weary  ones  he  sought." — WatcJiman. 

EAKLY  on  the  following  morning,Nellie  MacFarland — 
Sophia's  waiting-maid — carried  a  note  to  Lawyer  Rug- 
gleston.  It  apprised  him  of  the  robbery,  and  begged  his 
immediate  counsel  and  aid. 

"  Ah  !  that  is  easy,"  said  he.  "  I  know  the  handsome 
and  skillful  detective  Captain  Nelson.  This  case  is  just 
the  job  he  will  delight  to  work  up."  Then,  turning  to 
Nellie,  he  kindly  and  soothingly  said  :  "  Convey  to  your 
mistress  my  compliments,  and  tell  her  to  give  herself  no 
uneasiness  about  the  robbery  of  her  jewels.  They  will 
soon  be  found  and  restored  to  her — unfortunate  lady!" 

Nellie  passed  a  fine-looking  gentleman  as  she  went 
from  the  office  into  the  street.  His  mild,  benevolent  eyes 
attracted  her  attention.  She  loved  him  on  the  instant, 
and  wanted  to  throw  herself  into  his  arms,  and  cry, 
"  My  friend,  my  friend  !"  But  she  did  no  such  unmaid- 
enly  thing ;  on  the  contrary,  she  walked  forward  as  un 
concernedly  as  you,  reader,  would  do  under  like  circum 
stances.  And  yet,  sometimes,  don't  you  think  that  one 
human  heart  closely  resembles  every  other  human  heart  ? 
Are  not  hearts  brothers  and  sisters  to  each  other  ? 

The  gentleman,  politely  addressing  Mr.  Ruggleston, 
and  handing  him  his  card,  said,  "  When  you  have  leisure, 
sir,  I  would  like  to  speak  with  you  on  a  little  matter  of 
business." 

"  Certainly,"  promptly  replied  the  distinguished  law 
yer.  Then  looking  down  at  the  card,  he  asked  :  "  Pray, 
sir,  are  you  the  celebrated  physician,  Doctor  La  Force 
Du  Bois,  of  New-Orleans,  whose  success  in  the  treat 
ment  of  yellow-fever  has  been  heralded  throughout  Eu 
rope  and  America  ?" 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  115 

"The  same,"  he  replied  modestly,  and  continued: 
"  I  have  retired  from  practice,  however,  and  wish  now 
to  give  my  entire  time  to  investigations  in  a  different 
field." 

"What  investigations  do  you  refer  to,  Doctor  Du 
Bois  ?" 

"  I  will  answer  you  in  a  moment,  Monsieur  Ruggle- 
ston,  if  you  will  first  assure  me  that  I  am  not  trespassing 
on  time  that  is  valuable  to  you.  In  the  latter  case,  sir, 
I  wish  to  know  on  what  terms  I  can  procure  your  co 
operation  ?" 

"  State  your  business,  doctor,  as  briefly  as  possible, 
and  then  you  shall  frankly  have  my  decision." 

Doctor  Du  Bois  was  delighted  with  Lawyer  Ruggle- 
ston  at  once,  and  immensely.  "  Then,  most  kind  mon 
sieur,"  began  the  physician,  "  to  be  brief,  my  purpose  is, 
since  I  have  amassed  a  fortune  by  my  practice  and  can 
afford  the  time  and  expense,  to  investigate  the  laws  of 
human  generation  and  improvement." 

"  State,  if  you  please,  exactly  what  you  mean  by  the 
phraseology,  '  human  generation,' "  interrupted  Mr. 
Ruggleston  in  true  lawyer-like  fashion. 

"  Most  certainly,  sir.  It  is  this,  and  nothing  else :  the 
law  of  the  propagation  of  our  species." 

"  Very  well.  Now,  what  do  you  mean  by  '  human  im 
provement  '  as  derived  from  such  propagation  ?" 

"  Presently,  monsieur,  presently  you  shall  understand 
all  my  meaning."  The  lawyer  bowed  a  doubtful  assent, 
and  the  physician  proceeded  : 

"  My  theory  is  this  :  the  physical  qualities  and  mental 
endowments  of  individual  man  and  woman  are  inherited ; 
not  created  by  either  circumstances  or  education,  al 
though  the  latter  may  modify  and  measurably  control 
them.  Now,  sir,  the  LAW,  by  and  through  which  such 
physical  and  mental  capabilities  are  transmitted  from 


116  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

parents  to  children,  is  the  object  of  my  researches. 
What  I  want,  sir,  are  facts.  From  my  observation  thus 
far,  I  am  satisfied  that  physically  healthy  and  virtuous 
progeny  can  be  obtained  by  the  same  principles  which, 
under  different  circumstances  and  in  different  progeni 
tors,  result  in  physically  diseased  and  vicious  progeny. 
In  a  word,  sir,  that  bodily  'diseases  and  mental  vices  are 
not  derived  from  circumstances  and  education  in  the  in 
dividual,  but  are  inherited  through  the  mysterious  laws 
of  propagation  from  the  immediate  parents  or  remote 
ancestor  of  the  individual.  I  would  apply  to  the  im 
provement  of  humanity  the  same  principles  of  consort- 
ment  by  which  farmers  secure  the  improvement  of  stock 
in  the  fields." 

"  A  tremendous  undertaking  1"  said  the  lawyer,  smil 
ing  incredulously. 

"True,  sir,  true.  And  yet,  may  we  not  obtain  results 
of  equal  magnitude  ?" 

"  How  under  heavens  can  JT,  a  New- York  City  lawyer, 
aid  you  in  this  delicate  and  abstruse  investigation  ?" 

"You  are  just  the  man!"  enthusiastically  replied  the 
doctor — "  you  are  just  the  man !" 

"  How  so,  and  in  what  manner  ?" 

"  You  can  supply  me  with  illustrations  for  my  great 
volume  on  which  I  am  now  engaged." 

"  Illustrations !"  interrupted  Mr.  Ruggleston.  "  What 
in  heaven's  name  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  doctor  with  profound  gravity, 
"  you  can  give  me  hard  cases  to  study  up.  Look,  sir. 
Give  me  a  thief,  a  murderer,  a  gambler,  a  counterfeiter, 
a  libertine,  a  suicide,  a  courtesan,  a  criminal  in  any  of 
the  phases  of  crime ;  and  then,  sir,  I  will  take  that  man 
or  that  woman,  (or  child,  perhaps,)  and  trace  his  or  her 
parentage  back  to  the  very  causes  which  planted  the 
seeds  of  his  or  her  crime ;  which  crime,  when  it  comes 


TREES  OF  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  117 

to  full  blossom  and  fruition,  the  individual  is  compelled 
to  suffer  and  be  punished  for,  as  though  he  or  she  was 
the  voluntary  originator  of  the  vice,  the  fault,  or  the 
sin,  or  by  whatever  other  name  you  lawyers  and  judges 
and  ministers  choose  to  call  the  imperfections  and  con 
sequent  misfortunes  of  mankind." 

"  Humph  !"  groaned  the  skeptical  lawyer,  "  you  will 
accomplish  nothing.  The  laws  in  our  statute-books  are 
all  predicated  upon  the  docrine  of  '  free  will '  in  the  in 
dividual  mind;  hence  each  criminal  is  held  personally 
accountable,  and  is  punished  as  the  responsible  author 
of  his  or  her  deeds." 

"  True,  sir,  true,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  But  did  it 
never  occur  to  you,  sir,  that  the  theory  of  the  statute-laws 
may  be  rooted  in  time-honored  errors,  in  the  grossest 
absurdities,  and  the  most  hurtful  misapprehensions  of 
human  nature  ?" 

"  The  subject  is  endless,"  said  the  lawyer  wearily. 
"  However,  doctor,  since  all  you  want  of  me  are  cases  to 
study  up — '  facts,'  as  you  term  them — why,  sir,  I  can 
supply  you  with  any  conceivable  number,  and  at  any 
time." 

"  Ah !  monsieur  is  most  kind,"  returned  the  doctor, 
politely  bowing  and  smiling.  "  When  shall  I  have  the 
very  great  pleasure  of  another  interview  ?" 

"  Two  weeks  from  to-day,  doctor.  Until  then  I  shall  be 
incessantly  engaged  with  a  criminal  trial." 

"  Ah  sir !  you  do  me  very  great  honor." 

"  By  the  way,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer,  rising  and 
handing  him  a  long  card  with  writing  on  one  side, 
"  suppose,  at  your  leisure,  you  read  over  my  platform  of 
principles." 

"  With  immense  delight,  monsieur."  Then  he  took 
the  card  and  returned  to  his  hotel.  Arrived,  the  first 
thing  was  to  read  the  attorney's  rules  ;  and  they  were  as 
follows : 


118  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  1.  I  will  practice  law,  because  it  offers  to  me  oppor 
tunities  of  being  a  more  useful  member  of  society. 

"  2.  I  will  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  no  man  because  his  purse 
is  empty. 

"  3.  I  will  advise  no  man  beyond  my  comprehension 
of  his  case. 

"  4.  I  will  bring  none  into  law  who,  my  conscience 
tells  me,  should  be  kept  out  of  it. 

"  5.  I  will  never  be  unmindful  of  the  cause  of  human 
ity,  and  this  comprehends  widows,  fatherless,  and  those 
in  bondage. 

"  6.  I  will  be  faithful  to  my  client,  but  never  so  un 
faithful  to  myself  as  to  become  a  party  to  his  crime. 

"  7.  In  criminal  cases,  I  will  never  underrate  my  own 
abilities  ;  for,  if  my  client  proves  a  rascal,  his  money  is 
better  in  my  hands,  and  if  not,  I  hold  the  option. 

"  8.  I  Avill  never  acknowledge  the  omnipotence  of  the 
Legislature,  or  consider  their  acts  to  be  law  beyond  the 
spirit  of  the  Constitution. 

"  9.  No  man's  greatness  shall  elevate  him  above  the 
justice  due  to  my  client. 

"10.  I  will  never  consent  to  a  compromise  when  I 
conceive  a  verdict  essential  to  my  client's  future  reputa 
tion  or  protection,  for  of  this  he  can  not  be  a  competent 
judge. 

"  11.  I  will  advise  the  turbulent  with  candor,  and  if 
they  will  go  to  law  against  my  advice,  they  must  pardon 
me  for  volunteering  it  against  them." 

"  O  superb  man !"  exclaimed  the  enthusiastic  doctor, 
clapping  his  hands  in  a  perfect  jubilee  of  delight.  "Mag 
nificent  lawyer !  Yes,  I  have  found  the  right  man ! 
Thank  God,  I  have  found  the  RIGHT  MAX!" 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  119 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  THE  sigh,  of  sorrow  to  the  winds  hath  given 

Their  wild  lament ;  a  broken  heart  beats  there. 
She  moveth  with  the  eclipse,  o'er  earth  and  heaven  : 
In  form  unseen,  in  presence  everywhere." 

Poet's  Song. 

LAWYER  RUGGLESTON  instantly  dispatched  a  messenger 
to  Captain  Nelson's  residence,  asking  his  presence  at  his 
office  in  Wall  Street,  on  urgent  police  business,  which 
would  require  his  services  in  his  great  capacity  as  detec 
tive. 

"  Mr.  Nelson  is  out  of  town  on  private  business,"  said 
the  servant.  "  He  will  return  some  time  to-morrow." 

Once  more  the  reader  is  transported  to  the  subter 
ranean  abode  somewhere  on  Long  Island.  It  can  not 
be  far  from  the  town  of  Green  Point.  It  was  invariably 
reached  by  the  robbers  from  the  upper  part  of  New- 
York;  then  rowing  a  small  boat  through  "Hell-Gate," 
across  the  river,  and  along  the  west  side  of  the  shore ; 
then  by  walking  through  woods  and  tangled  thickets  ap 
parently  eastward  for  about  forty  minutes;  and  then 
when  arrived,  with  the  coolest  possible  humorj  and  with 
the  greatest  diabolical  sprightliness  imaginable,  call 
ing  their  black  retreat "  Hell " — a  suggestion,  one  would 
think,  sufficient  in  itself  to  work  their  reformation 
through  positive  fear  of  the  blacker  and  the  hotter 
place  which  is  constantly  pictured  by  preachers  for  the 
sake  of  saving  lost  souls. 

Five  robbers  are  seated  about,  like  so  many  Chinamen, 
on  the  straw-covered  ground. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !"  they  laugh  in  diabolical  chorus,  as  their 
tall,  handsome  chief  exhibits,  in  the  dull  light  of  two 
candle-lanterns,  the  gorgeous  jewelry  stolen  from  poor 
Madam  Sophia. 


120  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Fred,  you  smart  dog !"  said  the  chieftain,  addressing 
the  missing  errand-boy,  "  pretty  rich  chickens,  after  sit 
ting  six  months  on  one  nest  of  eggs,  eh,  boy  ?" 

The  black-eyed  and  curly-haired  youth  made  no  an 
swer.  He  looked  solemnly  and  sullenly  straight  into 
Captain  Nelson's  rather  fine  eyes.  The  latter  con 
tinued  : 

"  Now,  you  cunning  fox,  your  day  in  New-York  has 
sunk  into  NIGHT.  After  this,  boy,  all  your  jobs  must  be 
done  when  honest  eyes  can't  see  two  inches  before  them. 
Eh,  boy  ?" 

"  Must  I  live  in '  Hell '  all  day,  and  every  day,  for  years  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Don't  trouble  your  damn  brains  about  years  to  come," 
replied  the  captain. harshly.  "  Heed  what  is  before  you, 
dog.  Keep  in  '  Hell '  until  I  find  a  way  for  you  to  get  out. 
Mind,  boy,  eh  ?" 

The  youth  groaned  with  angry  disappointment. 

Then  addressing  the  five  men  individually  and  seve 
rally,  the  captain  asked  : 

"  How  goes  the  passenger  traffic  ?" 

"  Dull  times,  boss,"  growled  a  burly  fellow.  "  Only 
fourteen  transported  since  Dr.  Morte  moved  into  Hud 
son  Street." 

"  Well,  devils,"  said  the  captain,  "  have  a  care  how 
you  handle  and  convey  your  passengers.  Have  a  care, 
devils ;  for  you  know  to  your  SOITOW  that  passengers 
sometimes  take  care  of  themselves." 

Next  morning,  the  distinguished  detective,  Captain 
John  Nelson,  entered  the  office  of  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 

"  What's  in  the  wind  now  ?  "  asked  the  robber  with 
supreme  indifference. 

With  undisguised  concern  the  legal  gentleman,  full  of 
honest  sympathy  for  the  unhappy  lady,  imparted  all  he 
knew  of  the  robbery. 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  121 

The  captain  pretended  great  astonishment  that  the 
honest  boy,  whom  he  had  introduced  and  recommended 
to  the  storekeeper,  should  have  suddenly  turned  "  such 
a  short  corner." 

After  hearing  all  remarks  and  receiving  all  surmises 
with  unsurpassed  coolness,  yet  with  a  becoming  degree 
of  professional  interest  in  the  case,  the  detective  police 
impostor  set  out  to  visit  and  question  Madam  Sophia 
Lawson. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"Ann  such  is  man — a  soil  which  breeds 
Or  sweetest  flowers  or  violet  weeds ; 
Flowers  lovely  as  the  morning  light, 
Weeds  deadly  as  an  aconite." — Bowring. 

LET  us  for  a  moment  look  in  upon  Dr.  Morte's  Lying- 
in  Hospital. 

Strange  as  it  at  first  may  seem,  Dr.  Mortc  particularly 
requested  —  on  the  plea  that  his  practice  was  of  a  strict 
ly  confidential  nature — that  his  name  and  profession 
should  not  appear ;  but  instead,  he  begged  that,  on  the 
outside  wall  by  the  door,  his  landlady  would  allow  her 
sign  as  music-teacher  to  remain  where  it  then  was. 
She  consented.  He  punctually  paid  her  ninety  dollai-s  a 
month  for  his  use  of  the  premises  and  furniture.  This 
left  her  fifteen  dollars  after  paying  the  sum  agreed  to, 
seventy-five  dollars  each  month,  to  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 
Doctor  Morte  seemed  indifferent  at  first,  and  continued 
so  to  express  himself,  about  receiving  any  compensation 
from  Madam  Lawson  for  herself  and  her  maid's  board 

6 


122  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

in  his  family.  Sophia  regarded  this  generosity  in  the 
light  of  sympathy  for  crippled  circumstances.  In  a  few 
days,  however,  she  found  it  absolutely  impossible  to  eat 
any  thing  on  Doctor  Morte's  table.  Accordingly,  she 
and  Nellie  kept  closely  in  their  rooms,  and  prepared  for 
themselves  whatever  they  could  afford  to  purchase  with 
the  few  dollars  left  over  the  rent. 

Strange  occurrences,  which  Mrs.  Lawson  and  Nellie 
could  not  avoid  remarking,  continually  characterized  the 
management  of  the  Lying-in  Hospital. 

Almost  every  other  day  a  lady  patient  would  arrive. 
When  or  how  they  left  the  hospital  remained  a  mystery. 

The  doctor  had  two  very  differently  arranged  rooms 
for  the  accommodation  of  two  very  different  classes  of 
patients.  When  a  patient  arrived,  the  doctor  or  his 
"  student  "  would  ask  in  a  whisper  : 

"  What  will  you  have — Live  and  found  f  or  still  and 
lost  ?" 

Upon  the  answer  of  these  preliminary  and  mysterious 
interrogations  would  depend  the  question  as  to  which  of 
the  two  rooms  the  patient  would  be  assigned. 

Sometimes  in  broad,  open  day  a  carriage  would  stop  at 
the  door.  Two  men,  one  always  the  doctor  himself, 
would  carry  out  in  their  arms  a  lady  patient  closely 
wrapped  up  in  blankets,  and  a  thick  vail  tied  over  her  head 
and  face.  One  day,  Mrs.  Lawson  was  extremely  horrified 
at  what  she  took  to  be  the  face  of  a  dead  woman  which 
she  chanced  to  notice  when  going  through  the  hall ;  but 
which  woman  was  a  few  moments  subsequently  carried 
out  and  placed  in  a  carriage,  the  two  men  giving  the  ob 
ject  all  proper  attention,  and  both  acting  toward  the 
lifeless  sitting-up  corpse  as  if  it  were  really  a  living 
sick  body  being  conveyed  from  a  hospital  to  her  more 
comfortable  home,  and  to  the  care  of  better  friends, 
either  in  the  city  or  country.  These  circumstances  so 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  123 

frightened  Madam  Sophia  and  her  superstitious  maid 
Nellie  that  for  days  and  days  they  hardly  ventured 
down-stairs. 

Another  strange  circumstance,  of  rather  more  frequent 
occurrence :  A  burly,  dissipated-looking  fellow  would 
drive  up  in  a  common  one-horse  country- wagon,  half- 
full  or  more  of  boxes  and  various  packages  of  different 
sizes.  Ringing  the  door-bell,  he  would  shout : 
"  Any  thing  for  the  Long  Island  Express  ?" 
Presently  the  forbidding-looking  "student,"  or  the 
doctor's  brazen-faced  "  wife,"  would  appear  with  little 
bundles ;  but  usually,  they  carried  out  to  the  express 
man  one  or  more  of  the  long  cone-shaped  tin  cans,  which 
seemed  to  be  loaded  with  something  heavy.  These  he 
would  place  in  his  wagon,  throw  an  old  piece  of  sail-cloth 
over  them,  and  then  drive  off  like  any  other  man  engaged 
in  an  honest  business. 

These  extraordinary  transactions,  conducted  method 
ically  in  open  day,  and  frequently  right  under  the  drowsy 
eyes  of  the  perambulating  city  police,  shocked  madam 
with  feelings  akin  to  consternation. 

"  O  merciful  heavens!"  she  would  exclaim  in  the  agony 
of  impoverishment  and  terror,  "  how  long,  oh !  how  long 
am  I  to  be  subject  to  this  life  of  crime  and  misery  ?" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  YET  I'll  curse  him — 'tis  all  in  vain  : 
"Tis  long  to  wait,  but  sure  he'll  come  again. 

Gambler's  Wife. 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  NELSON,  with  a  note  of  introduction 
from  La wyer  Ruggleston  to  Madam  Sophia  La  wson,  fully 
recommending  him  as  a  skillful  detective,  counseling  her 
to  put  the  case  entirely  in  his  hands,  with  all  confidence 


124:  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN". 

that  he  would  in  a  few  days  find  the  boy-thief,  entered 
the  room,  where  he  found  the  Creole  beauty  and  Nellie, 
both  very  glad  to  welcome  him. 

Sophia  instantly  started  to  her  feet,  with  an  exclama 
tion  "  Oh  !"  and  as  suddenly  dropped  back  in  her  chair, 
as  though  a  dagger's  point  had  pierced  to  the  very  core 
of  her  heart. 

Nellie  attended  her  mistress,  fanned  her  face,  chafed 
her  wrists,  held  the  smelling-salts  to  her  nostrils,  put  a 
little  wine  between  her  lips,  and  soon  had  the  joy  of  see 
ing  the  beautiful  lady  fully  recovered. 

Detective  Nelson  modestly  withdrew  to  the  other  side 
of  the  room,  and  busied  himself  looking  over  a  portfolio 
of  French  prints,  until  the  scene  was  quite  over  and  he 
was  addressed. 

"Pardon  my  sudden  attack,  sir.  I  fear  my  heart  is 
diseased."  She  then  read  Mr.  Ruggleston's  note,  and 
bowed  her  acknowledgment. 

Meanwhile  the  detective  (for  so  we  must  reluctantly 
call  him  for  a  time)  contemplated  the  beautiful  woman. 
He  was  evidently  marking  out  a  new  course  of  policy. 
Having  resolved  upon  a  programme,  he  blandly  asked: 

"  What  reasons,  madam,  have  you  for  charging  the 
robbery  upon  the  storekeeper's  boy  ?" 

She  promptly  and  explicitly  and  minutely  described 
every  thing  just  as  it  had  happened. 

He  listened  with  respectful  interest  and  thoughtful 
composure. 

Then  she  added :  "  The  disappearance  of  the  lad  from 
his  employer  and  from  your  house,  his  boarding-place, 
must  be  conclusive  evidence,  is  it  not,  sir  ?" 

"  Let  me  ask,"  he  replied,  "  whether  you  have  had 
any  cause  to  suspect  any  one  in  this  house  ?" 

"  Of  robbery,  I  have  no  reason  to  suspect  any  one  in 
this  house,"  she  replied. 


TJREES  OF  CRIME   IN   FULL  BLOSSOM.  125 

"Your  answer,  madam,  leaves  upon  my  mind  an  im 
pression  that  you  do  suspect  the  people  in  this  house  of 
some  other  irregular  proceedings." 

Tremblingly,  but  in  firm  tone,  she  replied,  "Yes,  of 
nameless  horrors  and  shameful  practices  I  do  believe  these 
people  guilty." 

"  Goths  and  Vandals !"  said  the  detective  to  himself, 
"  this  lady  is  becoming  dangerous.  She  is  beginning  to 
oppose  our  business  of  conveying  passengers  through 
Ilell-Gate !"  This  and  much  more  he  privately  thought 
over ;  then  he  spoke  : 

"  Have  you  had  no  quarrels,  no  misunderstandings,  no 
bad  feelings,  no  hard  words  with  any  person  in  or  about 
these  premises  ?" 

He  now  bent  his  dark,  piercing,  yet  rather  handsome 
eyes  upon  poor  Nellie ;  who,  in  a  flash  of  excitement, 
turned  red  in  the  face,  and  looked  defiant  and  sullen. 

"I  must  know  all,"  he  said;  "  otherwise  my  plans  may 
miscarry." 

Madam  Sophia  then  recalled  a  "  little  difficulty,  one 
day,  with  poor,  dear  Nellie,"  and  related  it  circumstan 
tially  to  the  meditative  policeman. 

Unfortunately,  this  recital  let  the  detective  into  the 
important  secret  that  Madam  Lawson  was  destitute  of 
money.  He  had  thought  out  a  plan  of  action';  which, 
however,  required  the  implication  of  Nellie  in  the  robbery, 
and  her  consequent  discharge  from  madam's  service. 

"We  officers  of  the  law,"  he  began,  "have  many  dis 
agreeable  duties  to  perform.  Sometimes  we  give  offense 
where  none  is  intended.  Yet,  in  the  prosecution  of  our 
business,  duty  is  first  and  foremost." 

"  Please  be  more  explicit,  sir.  What  do  you  propose  ?" 
asked  the  rather  excited  madam. 

"  I  propose  to  search  your  maid's  trunk  and  private 
boxes."  And  he  rose  up  to  proceed  to  business. 


126  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

'  Nellie,  poor  Nellie,  overcome  with  agitation,  could 
do  nothing  but  cry  and  scream,  and  protest  her  entire 
innocence. 

"Then  do  not  fear  the  investigation,"  said  the  tall, 
commanding  detective.  "  Come,  madam,"  he  added, 
"  you  shall  yourself  open  her  trunk  and  boxes  in  my 
presence." 

They  went  into  the  adjoining  room,  where  poor  Nellie 
slept,  and  commenced  the  search. 

"What  is  this?"  exclaimed  Sophia,  as  she  drew  a 
dozen  or  more  of  her  own  handkerchiefs,  stockings,  gloves, 
little  lace  collars  and  cuffs,  to  match,  from  the  poor  girl's 
trunk. 

"  Certainly,  madam,"  said  the  detective  triumphantly, 
"  certainly,  your  maid  is  nobody's  fool." 

"Nellie  MacFarland,"  said  the  astonished  mistress, 
"  come  here  and  explain  yourself  before  this  officer." 

"  O  mum !"  she  began,  and  throwing  herself  implor 
ingly  upon  her  knees,  "  I  will  confess  !  I  will  confess  to 
you  and  to  the  priest  all  my  sins." 

"  Hurry,  then,"  interrupted  Captain  Nelson. 

"  O  mum !  I  hope  to  die  this  minute  and  go  to  hell  for 
ever,  if  what  I  confess  is  not  the  whole  truth." 

"  This  has  gone  nearly  far  enough,"  said  Nelson,  with 
a  pretense  of  being  authoritative  and  impatient. 

"  O  mum  !  do  hear  me,"  Nellie  pleadingly  said.  "  When, 
mum,  you  told  me  you  had  no  money  to  pay  my  wages," 
sobbed  the  poor  girl,  "  then,  mum,  then  I  thought  as 
how  you  had  so  many  pretty  things,  mum,  what  you 
didn't  use,  mum,  and  didn't  want,  mum — why,  then, 
mum,  I  thought  as  how  I  might  help  myself  to  the  amount 
of  my  back  wages,  mum,  and — O  dear  mum  !  that's  the 
whole  truth,  mum,  and  if  it  an't,  mum,  I  hope  to  be  struck 
down  dead  this  very  minute,  mum,  and — " 

"There,  that  will  do,  you  thief!"  harshly  interrupted 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  127" 

the  detective.  Then,  addressing  Sophia,  he  said  :  "  This 
girl  had  better  put  on  her  things,  pack  her  trunk,  and  go 
with  me." 

"  Sir !"  said  Nellie's  affectionate  mistress,  "  leave  this 
homeless  girl  with  me.  I  don't  blame  the  poor  creature. 
I  forgive  her  over  and  over  again !  Who  can  blame  the 
hard-working,  faithful  girl  ?  She  was  not  receiving  the 
least  compensation  for  her  toil.  Why,  sir,  I  am  not  cer 
tain  but  that,  were  I  placed  in  her  circumstances,  I  should 
have  done  what  she  has  done,  or — something  infinitely 
worse !  No,  sir,  leave  the  kind-hearted  creature  with  ma" 

Meanwhile  Nellie  was  crying  and  sobbing  in  great 
agony  of  soul. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  impostor,  "  the  welfare  of  society 
is  the  first  object  of  law.  Our  duty  to  society  compels 
us  to  detect  and  punish  criminals.  Therefore,  this  girl, 
being  a  thief,  must  go  with  me." 

The  scene  that  followed  was  too  painful  to  chronicle. 
Unbefriended  Nellie  accompanied  Captain  Nelson  to  a 
house  near  the  East  River.  On  the  way,  he  said,  "  Your 
crime  shall  never  be  known  if  you  will  obey  my  orders. 
Now  go  to  work,  and  behave  yourself.  Your  wages  will  be 
paid  you,  and  you  have  nothing  to  fear."  Thus  he  left 
poor  Nellie  in  a  strange  kitchen,  and  took  his  departure. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  DARK  is  the  night !  how  dark  !  no  light — no  fire  ! 
Cold,  on  the  hearth,  the  last  faint  sparks  expire." 

Old  Ballad. 

NEW- YOKE  never  contained  a  more  prepossessing,  in 
tellectual,  accomplished,  unprincipled  villain  than  the 
man  whom  the  reader  now  knows  as  Captain  John  Nel- 
Bon,  Detective. 


128  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

He  called  upon  Lawyer  Ruggleston  early  on  the  follow, 
ing  morning.  Finding  the  legal  gentleman  alone,  and 
quite  unoccupied,  he  commenced. 

"My  men  are  busy  scenting  and  hounding  up  that 
boy,  Mr.  Ruggleston.     He  made  a  mighty  rich  haul,  the 
young  scamp.      According  to  Madam  Lawson's  story, 
the  jewelry  was  worth  at  least  ten  thousand  dollars." 
"  Then  you  have  called  upon  Mrs.  Lawson  ?" 
"  Why,  certainly,"  responded  Nelson.  "  Can't  work  up 
a  case,  you  know,  without  first  obtaining  all  the  elements." 
"  Well,  sir,  what  is  your  impression  of  the  lady  ?" 
Now  Nelson  was  slightly  Frenchy  in  some  of  his  ges 
tures.     In  other  respects,  however — in  his  general  per 
sonal  appearance,  complexion,  color  of  eyes,  hair,  and 
oral  expressions — he,  by  birth  and  blood,  was  unmistak 
ably  Spanish. 

"  The  Spaniards  talk  in  dialogues 
Of  heads  and  shoulders,  nods  and  shrugs." — Hudibras. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  perfect  affectation  of 
heartless  indifference,  and  replied,  "  Madam  is  like  all 
other  women,  sir — ready,  like  the  sex  generally,  for  a  good 
bargain." 

At  this  moment — indeed,  while  Nelson  was  expressing 
the  latter  sentiment — Doctor  Du  Bois  opportunely  en 
tered  the  lawyer's  office.  He  at  once  most  cordially 
saluted  Mr.  Ruggleston,  who  now  occupied  an  eminent 
position  in  the  doctor's  regard;  then  fixing  his  earnest 
gaze  upon  Nelson,  he  said  : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  hope  I  am  not  intruding  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer  politely. 
"  Pray,  sir,  be  seated." 

Captain  Nelson  returned  the  searching  gaze  of  the 
physician  with  compound  interest.  Few  men  could  look 
Nelson  out  of  countenance. 

"  Monsieur  Ruggleston,"  said  the  doctor, "  my  business 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  129 

in  New- York  is  known  to  you.  You,  therefore,  appre 
ciate  ray  motive  for  requesting  this  gentleman,  although 
a  stranger  to  me,  to  repeat  his  remark  about  the  frailty 
of  women." 

Captain  Nelson  smiled  ironically,  and  said :  "  Why, 
certainly,  sir.  "Women,  sir,  in  my  opinion,  are  made  of 
two  elements — Passion  and  Fashion.  Approach  them 
through  either,  and  they  will  yield" 

The  gallant  and  honorable  French  blood  in  the  physi 
cian's  heart  mounted  suddenly  to  his  face.  "  Sire,"  said 
he,  with  great  vehemence,  "  sire,  do  you  give  that  remark 
as  your  toast,  and  as  applicable  to  all  women,  everywhere, 
and  of  all  countries  ?" 

"Why,  certainly,"  returned  the  captain  with  pro 
voking,  marble-like  imperturbability.  And  he  added, 
"  The  best  among  women  are  little  better  than  the 
worst.  They  are  all  accessible  to  a  persevering  lover 
who  has  plenty  of  money,  is  good-looking,  and  knows 
how  to  play  his  cards." 

"  Sire,"  quickly  replied  the  noble  doctor,  "  sire,  you 
do  women  an  infinite  harm." 

"  Why  certainly  not,"  returned  the  captain  ;  "  I  have 
no  dealings  with  the  sex,  in  no  way,  shape,  nor  manner." 

"  But  your  sentiments,  sire — your  sentiments,  are  an 
insult  to  the  whole  wide  world  of  virtuous  and  beautiful 
ladies." 

"  Virtuous  and  beautiful  ladies  /"  echoed  the  captain 
sneeringly. 

"  Sire,"  continued  the  physician  much  exasperated, 
"  your  insulting  remarks  refer  to  your  own  mother  and 
to  your  own  sisters,  I  presume,  and  not  to  the  -mothers 
and  sisters  of  gentlemen  !" 

Captain  Nelson  understood  human  nature  and  his 
own  business  too  well  to  lose  his  self-possession,  es 
pecially  when  merely  differing  with  others  in  opinion. 


130  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  My  remarks,"  he   said  firmly,  "  refer  to  every  body^s 
mothers  and  sisters  !     I  make  no  exceptions." 

"  My  God  !"  rejoined  the  physician — "  my  God  !" 
Then,  with  a  touch  of  sadness  in  his  thoughtful  tones > 
he  said,  "  Sire,  I  am  by  profession  a  physician,  although 
now  withdrawn  from  practice  ;  and  my  opportunities 
for  observation  have  been  many  and  propitious ;  and  of 
women  my  opinion  is,  that  as  a  class  they  are  outra 
geously  oppressed,  and  disabled  for  self-support,  by  the 
circumstances  of  society ;  they  are  sympathetic  and  neg 
ative  by  temperament  to  their  surroundings;  they  are' 
slightingly  spoken  of,  and  shamefully  jeered  at  and 
joked  about,  by  thoughtless  young  men  and  by  unprin 
cipled  scoundrels ;  they  are  covered  with  confusion  and 
shame  by  remarks  and  sentiments  like  yours,  sire ;  they 
are  approached  and  magnetized,  and  then  blighted  and 
then  deserted,  in  the  very  streets,  by  such  men  as  you, 
sire ;  then,  sire,  then,  having  lost  their  integrity  and 
their  self-respect,  they  become  *  lewd  characters '  so- 
called  ;  and  lastly,  sire,  lastly,  being  deeply  rooted  and 
wretchedly  helpless  in  their  overpowering  evils  and 
misfortunes,  they  appear  among  the  developments  of 
police  courts — abandoned  beyond  hope  in  themselves, 
and  openly  abhorred  by  persons  whom  you,  sire,  may 
with  great  propriety,  ironically  term  'respectable  citi 
zens.'  " 

With  amazing  coolness  Captain  Nelson  eyed  the  elo 
quent  physician.  After  a  little  he  said : 

"  From  your  language,  sir,  I  conclude  you  are  woman's 
champion  from  interested  motives." 

The  tantalizing  nature  and  manifest  injustice  of  this 
remark  inflamed  the  doctor  to  a  point  almost  beyond 
his  endurance.  Still,  with  uncommon  self-control,  he 
maintained  a  strict  silence.  Then  Nelson  added  : 

"  Now,  sir,  you  are  a  stranger  to  me,  and  a  somewhat 


TREES  OF  CHIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  131 

older  man  than  I,  and  may  have  seen  more  of  human 
nature  than  I ;  but,  sir,  I  can  introduce  the  testimony  of 
my  own  father — a  man  of  most  extensive  knowledge 
among  women— and  it  was  this,  (which  I  have  often 
overheard  from  his  own  lips  in  billiard-rooms  and  else 
where,)  it  was,  and  in  my  father's  own  words : 
'  Women,  gentlemen,  are  notoriously  licentious.  David 
and  Solomon,  gentlemen,  kept  scores  of  wives  and  con 
cubines.  The  Jewish  kings,  gentlemen,  and  indeed  the 
Jews  themselves,  were  excessively  amorous  ;  and,  with 
out  difficulty,  they  found  as  many  beautiful  ladies  as 
they  desired.'  So,  sir,"  continued  Nelson,  "  I  have  heard 
my  father  talk.  And  furthermore,  referring  to  his  own 
experience,  I  heard  him  say  :  '  Gentlemen,  I  have  per 
fumed  letters,  brimming  over  with  passion,  from  the 
most  beautiful  and  respectable  ladies  on  the  Continent. 
If,  gentlemen,  if,  by  any  untoward  mishap,  those  love- 
letters  should  get  into  print,  the  highest  circles  of 
society  Avould  be  blown  asunder  in  twelve  hours.' 
Yes,  sir"  he  added,  "I  heard  my  father  boast  many 
and  many  a  time  that  he  could  seduce  any  lady  to 
whom  he  could  be  properly  introduced.  That,  sir,"  con 
cluded  Nelson,  triumphantly,  "  is  the  testimony  of  my 
father,  as  rich  and  as  rascally  a  father  as  any  son  ever 
had." 

Doctor  DuBois  bowed  abruptly,  and  immediately  left 
the  office. 

"  Mr.  Ruggleston,"  asked  the  detective,  who  had  not 
yet  accomplished  the  object  of  his  call,  "  Mr.  Ruggles 
ton,  who,  in  the  name  of  Goths  and  Vandals,  is  that 
opinionated  French  champion  of  female  virtue  ?" 

Unhappily,  the  honest  lawyer  imparted  all  he  knew  of 
Dr.  Du  Bois.  He  even  disclosed  the  hotel  at  which  the 
physician  was  boarding. 

Nelson  heard  it  all,  but  kept  his  own  counsel.    Having 


132  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

finished  his  business — the  nature  of  which  will  hereafter 
appear-r-he  hastened  away. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  WILD  roars  the  wind  ;  the  lights  burn  blue  ; 
The  watch-dog  howls  with  fear." — The  Lament. 

"  NELLIE,"  said  Nelson,  whom  the  poor  girl  regarded 
with  horror  as  a  police-officer,  having  her  completely  in 
his  power,  because  of  his  knowledge  of  her  theft — "  Nellie? 
I  have  a  place  for  you." 

"  Oh !  where?"  asked  the  frightened  maid,  thinking  it 
was  in  some  prison.  "  Where,  sir  ?" 

"At  the  Globe  Hotel,  in  Duane  street.  I  have  just 
seen  the  proprietor ;  he  wants  a  girl  for  chamber-work ; 
I  think  you'll  suit  exactly." 

Then  the  detective  pulled  her  down  on  a  chair  beside 
him,  and  said : 

"  Now,  mark,  girl.  You  are  to  work  for  me  /  not  for 
the  proprietor ;  and  this  is  what  you  are  to  do :  At  the 
head  of  the  back  staircase  is  the  chamber  of  an  old  French 
doctor.  Now,  take  this  Wax,  press  the  key  of  his  door 
down  hard  in  it,  until  you  get  a  perfect  pattern  of  the 
key  in  the  wax,  then  put  it  carefully  away  out  of  sight  of 
every  one,  and  hand  it  to  me  to-night;  expect  certainly 
that  I  shall  call  about  seven  o'clock  and  ask  for  you." 

Captain  Nelson  then  accompanied  the  unwilling  daugh 
ter  of  Erin  to  the  Globe  Hotel.  She  was  received  kindly 
by  Mr.  Johnston,  the  proprietor,  and  at  once  installed  in 
her  duties  as  chamber-maid. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  busy  detective  entered  the  pre 
sence  of  Madam  Sophia  Lawson.  He  politely  handed  her 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  133 

a  note  from  Lawyer  Ruggleston.  Then,  with  consider 
able  grace  and  ease,  he  seated  himself  by  the  window, 
and  studied  the  fine  face,  the  attractive  eyes,  the  lovely 
and  haughty  bearing  of  the  lady,  while  to  herself  she 
read  the  following  brief  letter : 

NEW-YOKK,  Jan.  20,  1833. 

MY  DEAR  MADAM  :  Having  learned  with  regret  from  Detective 
Nelson  that  you  are  residing  in  the  family  of  a  physician  whose 
professional  practices  are  not  above  the  most  shocking  suspicions, 
it  becomes  my  duty  to  you  to  counsel  an  immediate  change  in  your 
circumstances. 

Detective  Nelson  gives  me  his  word  of  honor  as  a  gentleman, 
(and  I  have  never  known  him  to  violate  hie  pledge  in  any  case,) 
that,  while  his  men  are  searching  for  the  missing  boy  and  your 
stolen  property,  you  can  be  comfortably  accommodated  in  the  family 
of  a  friend  of  his,  residing,  I  am  told,  in  a  pleasant  neighborhood, 
on  the  east  side  of  the  city,  near  Catharine  street,  and  but  a  few 
steps  from  East  Broadway. 

Should  you  conclude  favorably,  and  accept  this  advantageous 
proposition,  evidently  made  in  good  faith  by  the  bearer,  then,  from 
this  day  forward,  I  will  release  you  from  all  obligations  arising  from 
the  original  lease,  and  look  to  William  Morte,  M.D.,  for  future 
payments  of  rent ;  and  (if  the  above  conditions  be  complied  with) 
this  is  a  receipt  in  full  of  all  demands  against  you  to  date. 

Believe  me,  madam,  with  sincere  respect,  very  truly  yours,  etc., 

GEOKGE  W.  RUGGLESTON, 
Atty.,  Wall  street. 

To  Madam  Sophia  Lawson,  Hudson  street,  New-York. 

Most  gladly  she  accepted  all.  It  was  the  first  ray  of 
sunshine  for — oh !  so  many,  many,  weary,  weary  weeks 
and  months. 

By  six  o'clock  of  that  evening  the  lonely  and  lovely 
Creole  was  arranging  her  wardrobe  in  the  ample  closets 
of  her  new  and  large  apartments. 

"Merciful  Heaven  is  merciful  to  me  at  last!"  she  joy 
fully  exclaimed  in  her  very  heart,  as  she  flew  about  the 
warm,  beautifully  carpeted  room,  so  tastefully  embellish 
ed  with  hanging  pictures,  and  so  abundantly  supplied 
with  the  many  little  conveniences  of  toilet  and  wardrobe. 

Tea-bell  sounded  a  welcome  appeal,  and  the  half-fam- 


134  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

ished  Sophia,  very  gracefully  attired,  tripped  like  a  girl 
of  sixteen  down  to  the  dining-room. 

Here  she  met,  for  the  first  time  since  entering  the 
house,  the  rather  flashily  dressed  hostess — a  lady  of  forty- 
five,  with  a  tired-looking  face ;  and  then,  one  after  anoth 
er,  she  (Madam  Lawson)  was  introduced  to  the  half  a 
dozen  or  more  young  ladies,  all  gayly  dressed  and  with 
dissipated  looks  ;  and  then,  in  the  most  frolicksome  good 
nature — in  fact,  in  the  jolliest  and  most  rollicking  mood 
imaginable — the  whole  party  of  ladies  began  chatting  to 
gether,  meanwhile  discussing  the  delicate  viands  and 
good  things  with  which  the  table  was  unsparingly  loaded. 

"  There  !"  said  Sophia  to  herself,  after  partaking  freely, 
and  ending  with  a  tiny  glass  of  old  Port — "  there  !  that's 
the  first  time  for  months  I  have  had  all  I  wanted  to  eat 
and  drink." 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  the  streets  were  quite  dark, 
a  number  of  gentlemen  arrived.  Merrily,  merrily  flew 
the  moments  !  Sophia  was  introduced  to  and  cordially 
welcomed  by  every  one.  Although  among  strangers, 
she  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  gay  Paris  society,  and  was 
therefore  never  at  a  loss.  Her  sparkling  wit  was  purely 
French  ;  her  style  of  conversation  was  evidently  Spanish ; 
and  her  healthy,  vigorous  beauty  was  preeminently  wo 
manly,  and  hence  attractive. 

They  urged  her  to  play  and  sing.  She  modestly  hesi 
tated.  How  could  she  sing,  having  been"  out  of  practice," 
ever  since  the  horrible  murder  of  her  last  husband !  (This 
terrible  memory,  happily,  no  one  could  see.)  She  seemed 
happy,  and  so  they  gathered  around  her;  just  as  the 
girls  and  young  men  used  to  in  days  by-gone  ;  and,  lis 
tening  to  their  passionate  appeals,  mingled  with  a  very 
little  flattery,  she  laughingly  consented. 

"  What  shall  I  sing  ?"  she  asked.  They  simultaneous 
ly  replied,  "  Sing  your  favorite  !  Your  choice  must  be 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.      /     135 

beautiful !    Oh !  do  sing,  dear  lady  !"     Without  further 
urging,  she  began : 


"  Oh !  what  happiness,  what  brightness, 

In  life's  changing  scenes  appear, 
When  we  meet  kind  words  and  actions. 

And  we  feel  they  are  sincere  : 
When  smiles  of  friendship  greet  us, 

And  we  know  that  they  are  true, 
What  charms  has  this  fair  world 

To  offer  me  and  you. 

"  With  the  beaming  sky  above  us, 

And  the  lovely  earth  beneath, 
With  the  music  of  the  ocean, 

And  the  flower-enameled  heath, 
With  these  beauteous  scenes  of  nature, 

What  more  cheering  would  you  ask, 
Than  the  glance  that  speaks  affection 

From  the  heart  without  a  mask  ? 

"  For  pure  truth  is  such  a  jewel ! 

Oh  !  BO  precious  and  so  rare, 
That  it  seems  a  spark  from  heaven, 

Seldom  lent  to  mortal  care. 
When  we  meet  it  in  earth's  friendship, 

Let  us  prize  its  holy  might, 
For  it  comes  unto  our  spirits 

Like  an  angel  winged  with  light." 


They  listened  in  raptures.  Oh !  that  heavenly  voice — so 
exceedingly  sweet,  so  angel-like  in  its  tenderness,  so  liv 
ing  with  the  electrical  breathings  of  a  loving  heart — 
charmed,  magnetized,  subdued,  silenced  every  guest. 

But  the  joy  and  the  sadness  and  the  sweetness  of  her 
tones  reached  beyond  the  brick  walls.  Outside,  the  snow- 
covered  pavement  was  occupied  by  a  silent,  worshiping 
multitude.  Mean-looking  market  men;  shivering  and 
half-clad  little  boys ;  dirty  and  despairing  girls  of  the 
Bowery ;  greasy-looking  women  from  the  slums  of  Chat 
ham  street  and  Five  Points  ;  here  and  there  in  the  eager 
crowd  could  be  seen  a  well-dressed  lady  and  gentleman, 


136  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

returning  to  their  homes  from  the  Shakespearean  tragedy 
performed  that  night  at  the  Park  Theatre — yes,  there  ! 
out  in  the  wintry  cold,  stood  a  throng  of  hungering  and 
thirsting  human  souls,  each  for  itself,  and  each  in  its  own 
way,  drinking  worshipfully  from  the  limpid  stream  that 
was  fed  by  the  divine  fountain  of  Music  ! 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"  AND  oil  !  what  changes  we  all  know 

Long  years  can  bring  in  one  small  place, 
In  names  and  shapes,  from  face  to  face, 
As  souls  will  come  and  souls  will  go." — Barnes 

"  BLAST  that  hell  colt !  "  said  the  robber  chieftain,  as 
he  paced  up  and  down  the  cold  straw-covered  cellar  in 
his  Long  Island  retreat.  "  It  is  already  an  hour  past 
midnight.  He  should  have  been  here  two  hours  ago." 

o  o 

Just  then  the  door  was  opened  by  a  burly  fellow,  car 
rying  under  his  left  arm  a  short  muzzle-loading  rifle  of 
large  bore,  capable  of  projecting  heavy  lead  ;  and  behind 
him,  walked  in  the  defiant  and  sullen  yoxing  thief — his 
black  eyes  and  curly  raven  hair  making  his  naturally 
pale  face  appear  even  more  white  than  usual. 

"  Well,  you  young  devil !"  said  the  detective.  "  What's 
in  the  wind  ?" 

Sullenly  the  youngster  stripped  off  his  coat  and  vest, 
and  then  removed  a  baggy  buckskin  garment,  which 
closely  resembled  a  vest  in  pattern,  and  which,  with  a 
suppressed  oath,  he  tossed  into  the  hand  of  Captain  Nel 
son. 

"  Was  the  Frenchman  at  home  ?"  he  asked. 

"  That  strong  iron  box  was  too  much  for  me,"  replied 
the  boy,  showing  the  blood  and  blisters  on  his  hands. 

Meanwhile  the  captain  was  turning  the  leathern  vest 


TREES  OF  CMME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  137 

inside  out,  and  removing  from  its  purse-like  pockets  all 
the  gold  and  silver  coins  the  boy  had  obtained.  The 
sum  was  only  a  few  shillings  over  twelve  hundred  dollars- 

"  A  damn  small  bird  for  so  much  powder,"  said  the 
disappointed  robber.  Pie  added  :  "  Next  time  we'll  lance 
that  damn  doctor's  purse  with  a  ramrod." 

"  This  cellar  '  Hell '  is  too  bare  and  cold,"  muttered 
Fred  Wilson.  "How  much  longer  must  I  hide  in  this 
black-hole  of  devils  ?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Nelson  savagely — "  perhaps  until  the 
sheriff  turns  the  keys  of  the  old  dungeon  on  your  blasted 
hopes." 

Taking  up  a  carbine  and  handing  it  to  the  boy,  the 
captain  said,  "  Let  me  see  you  work  your  tools." 

With  an  expressionless  face,  but  quick  as  lightning, 
Fred  charged  his  short  gun.  He  accomplished  this  feat 
by  pouring  powder  into  the  barrel,  then  dropping  a  bul 
let  from  between  his  teeth  into  the  muzzle,  and  striking 
the  butt  of  the  carbine  suddenly  and  forcibly  on  the 
ground,  thus  sending  the  charge  home.  In  the  next  in 
stant  he  was  pointing  the  loaded  rifle  at  the  captain's 
breast ! 

"  By  the  Goths  ! "  said  the  captain  with  admiration. 
"  You,  boy,  Avith  your  pale  face,  will  make  the  blackest 
devil  in  our 'Hell.'"' 

The  burly-looking  assassin,  who  had  just  put  on  a  clean 
brown  shirt,  the  first  for  three  months,  drew  near  and 
listened. 

"  Joudre,"  said  the  captain, "  let's  take  down  this  boy's 
personal  appearances." 

Joudre  took  a  lead  pencil  and  wrote  after  the  captain's 
dictation : 

"  Small  hands  and  small  feet ;  broad  forehead  and  high 
brain  ;  eyes  black  and  gloomy ;  curly  hair,  fine  as  a  girl's 
and  black  as  the  devil's ;  clean,  white  teeth ;  a  nose  too 


188  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

good-looking  for  a  damn  thief;  a  devilish  fine  pattern 
for  shoulders ;  the  forefinger  of  his  left  hand  broken  and 
stiff  at  the  first  joint;  a  large  wart  or  mole  under  the  left 
ear,  where  the  hangman's  knot  is  tied — there  !  boy,  now 
stay  in  '  Hell '  until  some  good-natured  devil  comes  to 
your  relief." 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  detective  was  across  the  river, 
and  at  his  old  residence,  where  Lawyer  Ruggleston  in 
variably  sent  whenever  police  business  was  urgent. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  MY  own  heart  I  want — not  yours  ; 
You  have  bound  and  must  unbind  it." — Landon. 

FOB  many  weeks  after  the  robbery  of  Doctor  Du  Bois, 
all  plans  worked  smoothly  with  Detective  Nelson.  Lively 
and  always  elegant,  and  free  with  his  purse,  he  made 
himself  more  and  more  agreeable  to  the  confiding 
Sophia.  He  was  exceedingly  fond  of  music,  and  her 
sweet  voice  surpassed  all  language  at  his  command. 
Frequently  he  took  her  to  parties  ;  and  sometimes  to  the 
Park  Theatre.  There  were  ladies  and  gentlemen,  every 
night,  and  sometimes  all  night,  at  the  house.  Nelson 
gave  her  beautiful  presents  of  dresses  and  jewelry; 
which,  to  some  extent,  made  her  forget  the  great  loss 
she  had  sustained.  On  one  occasion  he  gave  her  a 
bright,  sharp  stiletto.  She  could  but  be  grateful  for 
the  possession  of  a  home  so  pleasant  and  so  comfortable. 
She  could  not  forget  that  she  owed  it  all  to  the  gener 
ous  and  handsome  detective. 

One  evening  he  said  to  her :  "  Man's  life  runs  out 
like  a  rapid  river,  don't  it,  Sophia  ?" 

Something,  she  knew  not  what,  made  her  silent  and 
sad.  It  was  already  the  beginning  of  another  summer. 


TKEES  OP  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.'  189 

The  wind  seemed  to  talk  that  night.  (Alas !  the  poor 
lady  did  not  comprehend  what  the  winds  were  saying.) 

"  Time  steals  on  from  day  to  day,  Sophia,"  the  detec 
tive  continued.  "  Hours  pass,  days  fly,  weeks  disap 
pear,  and  years  lie  dead  at  our  feet — now,  why  may  not 
you  and  I  get  in  and  fly  and  die  with  the  rest  ?" 

That  view  of  things  was  evidently  just  at  that  time 
rather  new  to  Sophia. 

"  Life,"  said  Nelson,  after  a  brief  silence,  "  is  hardly 
worth  all  this  fuss;  only  now  and  then,  do  I  think  it 
worth  any  one's  while." 

Hopeless  words  like  these  the  detective  expressed  to 
Sophia,  with  the  secret  hope  that  she  would,  without 
the  ceremony  of  marriage,  become  his  wife. 

"Damnation,"  said  he  one  day  to  himself,  "the 
proud-blooded  beauty  costs  me  more  money  and  takes 
more  of  my  time  than  any  woman's  fickle  passion  is 
worth." 

Yet  she  never  once  yielded  to  any  propositions,  not 
withstanding  he  had  done  and  was  continually  doing  so 
much  for  her  personal  comfort  and  gratification ;  and 
so,  one  evening,  Captain  John  Nelson  and  Madam 
Sophia  Lawson  were  married  in  the  parlor,  before  a 
large  party,  by  the  Reverend  Stephen  Tyrrell,  of  New- 
York. 

The  scene  is  now  changed.  Mrs.  Sophia  Nelson 
takes  the  keys  of  the  house,  presides  with  dignity  over 
the  establishment,  is  the  centre  of  attraction,  and  an 
object  of  love  and  unbounded  admiration,  and  all  goes 
"merry  as  a  marriage  bell."  But  another  event  is 
about  to  happen. 

One  evening,  about  a  month  after  the  parlor-wed 
ding,  Mrs.  Nelson  noticed  a  gentleman  mingling  freely 
and  familiarly  in  the  company  of  girls;  he  was  ex- 


140  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

treraely  jovial,  told  slightly  indelicate  stories,  indulged 
in  wine;  and  conducted  himself,  generally,  after  the 
free  and  easy  order  of  sensualists. 

On  closer  inspection  Mrs.  Nelson  discovered,  with 
what  degree  of  indignation  the  reader  may  possibly  im 
agine,  that  this  vulgar  man  was  identical  with  the 
"Reverend  Stephen  Tyrrell !" 

She  proceeded  at  once  into  a  little  reception  room  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  hall. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  daughter  of  Don 
Calvo  Marigny,  now  Mrs.  Nelson  of  New- York,  had  the 
blood  and  fire  of  a  Spaniard  running  through  her  heart. 

She  instantly  sent  her  colored  porter  into  the  parlor, 
with  a  message  to  the  hilarious  gentleman,  requesting 
an  immediate  interview. 

When  he  appeared  before  her,  she  said,  "  Sir,  are  you 
a  priest,  or  a  minister,  or  an  officer  of  any  grade,  having 
authority  to  perform  the  rites  of  marriage,  and  to  make 
out  certificates  that  will  be  recognized  by  law  ?" 

The  fellow  was  heated  and  jolly  with  excess  of  wine. 
Therefore  he  did  not  realize  her  anger,  or  dread  any  re 
sults  that  might  follow  upon  the  heels  of  confession. 
He  laughed  immoderately,  and  said,  "  What  a  devilish 
good  joke  !  Oh  !  what  a  glorious,  rollicking  joke  !" 
Then  he  laughed  louder  than  before. 

"  Enough,  sir !"  she  said,  with  queenly  dignity ; 
"  Now  rejoin  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the  pai'lor." 

Then  Mrs.  Nelson  politely  excused  herself  to  the 
company,  and  immediately  withdreAV  and  retired  for  the 
night. 

About  an  hour  before  daybreak,  the  gentlemanly  de 
tective,  having  finished  his  "business"  for  a  few  hours, 
returned  to  his  adorable  bride. 

A  light  was  dimly  burning  in  the  room.  He  pro 
ceeded  to  disrobe.  She,  in  the  bed,  thereupon  raised 
herself  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  said : 


TREES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  141 

"Captain  Nelson!" 
.  "  What  now,  Sophia  ?" 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?"  at  the  same  moment  holding  up 
the  bright,  sharp  dagger  he  had  given  her. 

"  Why,  certainly  !     What  of  it  ?" 

"  It  aches  with  a  mad  impatience  to  enter  your  heart, 
sir !" 

He  laughed  disdainfully. 

"  This  house,  this  bed,  this  body,  this  soul,  is  mine  /" 

"  Not  quite  so  fast,  my  good  lady." 

"To-night,"  she  continued,  "I  met  your  hired  vil 
lain — the  '  minister'  whom  you  created  to  perform  a 
mock  marriage." 

"  Eternal  Goths !     What  of  it  ?" 

"  This,  sir — I  am  not  your  icife" 

"  No,  certainly  not,"  he  replied,  unconcernedly. 
"  But  you  are  my  mistress  /" 

"  'Tis  false !  false  !  sir,  'tis  false !  You  have  gained  my 
love  with  a  lie !  O  hateful  wretch  !  My  '  love,'  did  I 
say  ?  No  !  you  never  received  from  my  heart  its  holy 
LOVE  !" 

"  Then,  madam,  you  have  treacherously  deceived  me  !" 

"  I  gave  you  my  hand,  sir — not  my  heart." 

"  Then,  as  I  supposed,  you  are  a  liar  and  a  courtesan  /" 

"  Ye_s,  yes,"  said  she  with  a  tone  of  inexpressible  sad 
ness.  "  I  have  never  loved  you,  and  I  never  can  !  Your 
very  eyes  are  hateful !  They  bring  back  to  my  thoughts 
the  image  of  the  first  man  who  tore  my  heart  out  by  the 
roots !" 

"  Aha  !"  said  he,  "  aha !  then  you  have  been  a  mistress 
to  some  other  man  !" 

"O  God!  God!"  she  cried,  "my  poor  heart  will 
break !  my  poor  heart  will  break  !" 

"  Certainly,  madam,  certainly  ;  let  it  break !" 

With  the  spring  of  a  tigress  she  darted  from  the  bed, 


14:2  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

and,  with  the  quickness  and  strength  of  desperation, 
plunged  the  dagger  deep  into  his  breast ! 

He  violently  grasped  her  hand  on  the  instant,  but  not 
until  his  blood  was  flowing  in  a  stream  upon  the  floor. 

Seeing  what  she  had  done,  and  that  the  wounded  man 
was  fainting  from  loss  of  blood,  she  screamed  for  help, 
and  pressed  her  soft  hand  tightly  upon  his  bleeding 
bosom. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"  AND  Ardennes  waves  above  them  her  green  leaves, 

Dewy  with  nature's  tear-drops  as  they  pass, 
Grieving,  if  aught  inanimate  e'er  grieves, 

Over  the  unreturning  brave — alas  ! 
Ere  evening  to  be  trodden  like  the  grass, 

Which  now  beneath  them — but  above  shall  grow, 
In  its  next  verdure,  when  this  fiery  mass 

Of  living  valor,  rolling  on  the  foe, 

And  burning  with  high  hope,  shall  moulder  cold  and  low." 

Irene. 

CAPTAIN  NELSON  revived  a  little.  He  decided  immedi 
ately  that  any  publicity  to  the  murderous  event  would 
probably  lead,  in  a  very  short  time,  to  a  full  disclosure  of 
his  many  horrible  villainies  and  impositions. 

Therefore  he  whisperingly  said  to  the  deceiv£d  and 
wretched,  yet  affectionate  and  still  forgiving,  Sophia — 
"Keep  still !  keep  all  this  still !  Call  a  physician !  Pos 
sibly  I  may  recover.  Have  me  carried  carefully  to  the 
rear  bedroom  in  the  third  story.  Say  I  have  had  an  ac 
cident.  Now  send  for  the  surgeon  and  physician,  whose 
office  is  ten  doors  above,  on  this  side  of  the  street.  Be 
quick !  I  am  bleeding." 

His  wound  was  pronounced  not  fatal.  Weeks,  how 
ever,  perhaps  months,  would  be  consumed  in  the  work  of 
restoration.  The  blade  of  the  dagger  had  pierced  through 


TREES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  143 

the  right  lung ;  and  he  was,  therefore,  continually  in 
danger  of  a  fatal  hemorrhage. 

Leaving  the  charlatan  detective  to  his  thoughts  and 
Avounded  body,  we  return  to  the  outraged  and  suffering 
Sophia. 

The  very  next  evening,  and  quite  early,  while  the  ladies 
were  entirely  alone,  Mrs.  Nelson  said,  "  "We  have  lived, 
and  played,  and  danced  together  for  many  months.  I  am 
now  a  wretched,  abandoned  woman !  Hereafter,  if  I 
sing,  or  play,  or  dance,  it  will  be  my  way  of  hiding  a 
broken  heart.  My  husband  is  wounded ;  is  out  of  money, 
and  he  may  die  any  day. 

" '  My  husband,'  did  I  say  ?  O  God,  God,  no !  He  is 
my  paramour ;  I  am  his  mistress.  You,  girls,  (he  tells 
me,)  live  in  the  same  hateful  relation  with  men  who  come 
in  your  way  !  If  he  misinforms  me,  you  will  now  indig 
nantly  deny  it." 

She  paused.  Her  fair  face  was  changed.  The  dove- 
eyed  tenderness  of  her  expression  was  all  gone.  The 
girls  made  no  reply,  but  all  cried  bitterly  like  hopeless 
children  lost  in  a  dark  woods.  They  all  dearly,  most 
dearly,  loved  and  worshiped  the  tender,  loving -hearted 
Sophia.  They  would  die  for  her.  They  would  do  any 
thing  for  the  beautiful  Mrs.  Nelson.  Oh !  it  was  a  ter 
rible  scene.  Ye  Christians  around  St.  John's  Park,  be 
hold  it. 

"  Yes,  girls,  we  are  all  courtesans  !  Let  us  commence 
this  shameful  life  in  a  new  way.  Let  us  lead  men  to  their 
destruction.  They  trample  upon  us;  we  will  trample 
upon  them.  They  cheat  us  and  steal  our  love  ;  we  will 
decoy  and  rob  them  of  both  money  and  character. 

"  O  girls  !  Bring  some  wine.  Make  haste.  Let  us 
drink. 

"  O  my  beautiful  dears !  I  love  you — every  one  of 
you,  with  my  whole  soul — but  I  hate  every  living  man  ! 


141  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

I  hate  the  very  name  of  marriage.  I  hate  every  sign  and 
every  sigh  of  a  man's  heart.  '  Heart !'  O  God,  God — 
man  has  no  heart.  N"o,  no.  He  has  no  heart. 
.  "  O  my  beautiful  dears,  ye  courtesans !  my  own  darling 
sisters,  in  the  bonds  of  hate  to  man !  Look  at  me,  girls  ; 
you  see  I  do  not  weep  !  I  have  no  tears !  My  bosom  is 
burning  hot  with  hate — with  a  life-long,  deadly  hate ! 

"  Oh  !  I  will  burn  and  destroy  every  man  who  falls 
within  my  power. 

"  And,  O  my  beautiful  dears !  my  own  darling  sisters ! 
Hurry,  quick  !  Let  us  proselyte  !  Young,  handsome  girls 
will  attract  other  men — rich  men  ;  men  of  families  ;  men 
with  wives  and  innocent  daughters  at  home  !  Yes,  yes  ! 
We  will  send  pimps  out  into  the  country  !  Men  are  good 
for  nothing  else ! 

"  Oh  !  come,  my  beautiful  darling  dears !  After  this 
night  I  will  keep  you.  You  shall  make  your  home  with 
me — paying  me,  from  your  earnings  and  from  your  steal 
ings,  what  I  require  to  keep  a  stylish  establishment. 

"  You  see,  girls,  I  do  not  weep !  Oh !  I  hate  the  very 
name  of  man  !  Pour  out  wine,  girls — pour  out  plenty  of 
•wine  for  each. 

"  Hark !  ah !  they  come  !  Yes,  yes,  the  door-bell  rings  ! 
Haste,  girls,  haste — the  wine  !  The  hateful  savages  are 
coming — the  men !  the  men  !  Why  don't  you  all  dance  ? 
Why  don't  you  all  sing  ?  Why  don't  you  all  laugh  ?  Ha, 
ha,  ha !" 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.     145 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  THOUGHTS  that  build  up  the  human  soul — 
Not  with  the  mean  and  vulgar  works  of  man, 
Bat  with  high  objects — with  enduring  things — 
With  Life  and  Nature !" — Jasper. 

FIVE  years  have  rolled  into  the  irrevocable  past  since 
the  scene  described  in  the  last  chapter. 

Only  five  years!  Then,  however,  the  thorny  buds 
upon  the  upas-trees  of  crime  were  beginning  to  swell, 
promising  blossoms  and  eventually  fruit — the  fruits 
being  evil  like  the  seeds  that  were  sown.  Meanwhile, 
how  very,  very  much — and  yet,  IIOAV  very,  very  little — 
has  happened  during  these  five  years!  Individuals, 
families,  societies,  states,  nations,  all  apparently  just 
what  they  were  five  years  ago.  And  yet,  now  that  we 
think  of  them,  there  are  thousands  of  babies,  mothers, 
children,  and  men  lying  in  long  rows,  unheeded,  beneath 
the  earth's  cold  crust,  tabernacles  of  flesh,  rather,  once 
temples  of  beauty  and  wisdom — buried  by  their  friends 
in  the  low,  moist  cells  of  corruption,  which,  however,  is 
the  beginning  of  chemical  purification.  Mothers,  hus 
bands,  children,  looking  forward  and  upward.  Here 
and  therein  old  man,  beyond  the  reach  of  passion,  stand 
ing  between  crutches,  looking  musingly  down  into  the 
fresh  memories  of  the  past.  Only  five  years !  Life  to 
thousands  of  millions ;  to  as  many  other  millions,  death. 
There  is  no  death,  however,  except  to  ignorance,  error, 
injustice,  cruelty,  and  crime. 

"  I  wish  you  a  cordial  good-morning,  Doctor  Du  Bois !" 
said  Lawyer  Ruggleston.     "  Where  on  earth  have  you 
kept  yourself  during  these  past  five  years  ?" 
1 


146  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

The  doctor's  fine,  honorable  face  lit  up  with  a  cheerful 
smile  as  he  answered  : 

"  Monsieur  Ruggleston,  it  gives  me  immense  pleasure, 
sir,*  to  return  from  journey  ings  in  many  parts  of  the 
great  wide  world — London,  Berlin,  Leipsic,  Paris,  Flor 
ence,  Rome,  Stockholm,  Vienna,  Cuba,  New-Orleans, 
Mobile,  back  again  to  New- York,  and,  sir — all  within 
these  five  years." 

"Ah,  yes,  doctor,  a  continual  feast  of  pleasure,  no 
doubt.  These  intellectual  bachelors,  you  know,  have  a 
reputation  for  being  too  selfish  and  too  sensible  to  marry. 
They  profess  to  have  great  disgust  for  the  unreasonable 
weakness  of  the  gentler  and  softer  sex ;  so,  with  no 
family  on  their  hands,  and  foot-loose  at  any  moment — 
why,  of  course,  they  can  travel  five  years  in  European 
countries,  on  the  American  principle  of  life,  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness." 

"  Quite  facetious  and  agreeable,  monsieur,"  said  the 
doctor,  rather  gravely.  "No,  no,"  he  continued,  "I 
have  been  decidedly  and  entirely  in  pursuit  of  know 
ledge." 

"Ah!  indeed;  why,  doctor,  your  brain-mill  must 
require  extra  blood-power  to  grind  out  so  many  grists." 

"  My  physical  habits,  monsieur,  are  extremely  simple  ; 
in  accordance  with  the  known  laws  of  health." 

"  Doubtless ;  your  fair  face  is  as  young-looking  as  a 
man  at  thirty,  while  I,  probably  about  your  own  age, 
look  old  enough  to  be  your  father." 

"The  arduous  labors  and  solicitudes  of  a  criminal 
lawyer,  with  such  an  immense  practice  as  yours  must 
be,  sir,  are  sufficient  to  break  down  the  strongest  con 
stitution." 

"  True,  doctor,  true,  and  yet,  to  be  frank  with  you,  I 
often  think  that  my  life  is  a  complete  failure." 

"Monsieur  Ruggleston,  you  astound  me,  sir!" 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  147 

"  Why  so,  doctor  ?"  And  then  he  continued :  "  Now 
look  at  my  case.  What  am  I  really  doing  to  make  the 
world  better ;  for  the  most  part,  my  clients  are  respect 
able  business  men  of  New- York.  I  look  after  their 
worldly  interests ;  then  I  charge  them  money  for  my 
services,  as  we  lawyers  are  really  obliged  to ;  then  they 
cheerfully  pay  what  I  ask :  then  come  the  results.  We 
have  no  children;  therefore  my  wife  and  I  eat  and 
drink,  attend  church,  enjoy  a  few  friends,  accumulate 
money.  And  now,  Doctor  Du  Bois,  if  that  isn't  a  com 
plete  failure  in  the  great  purposes  of  human  life,  why, 
then,  happily,  I  am  very  much  at  fault  in  my  philosophy 
of  things." 

"In  your  criminal  practice,  Mr.  Rugglcston,"  asked 
the  doctor,  "do  you  not  often  labor,  and  with  true 
dignity  and  benevolence,  to  kindle  a  fire  of  ioving  for 
giveness  on  the  cold  hearth  of  some  poor  frozen  wretch  ?" 

Thoughtfully  and  rather  sadly  the  lawyer  replied, 
"No,  doctor,  I  can't  say  that  I  do.  It  is  justly  and 
universally  deemed  discreditable  and  ungcntlemanly,  not 
to  say  hazardous,  in  my  profession,  to  take  sides  with 
thieves,  murderers,  highway  robbers,  fornicators,  and 
courtesans." 

"But,  monsieur,  are  not  you  lawyers  at  liberty  to 
investigate  the  hereditary  and  circumstantial  causes  of 
crime  ?" 

"  Of  course  we  are,  doctor,  when  it  is  for  the  interest 
of  our  clients." 

The  physician  reflected.  At  length  he  said :  "  Haven't 
you  yet  accumulated  sufficient  fortune  to  retire  from 
practice,  or  at  least,  to  refuse  all  cases,  except  those  which 
your  sense  of  justice  and  feelings  of  benevolence  com 
mend  to  your  care  and  advocacy?" 

"  Well,  I'll  think  about  that,  doctor."  He  then  put 
his  hand  up  to  his  forehead,  and  said,  "I  have  a  bad 


148  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

headache  this  morning,  doctor;  but,"  he  added,  laughing, 
"you  are  now  'out  of  practice 'I  suppose,  doctor;  other 
wise  you  might  possibly,  in  the  plenitude  of  benevolence, 
take  my  case  under  your  skillful  hand  !" 

"  Eh !   monsieur,"  said  the  doctor,   rising   from   his 

t  '  O 

chair  and  laying  his  left  hand  on  the  lawyer's  forehead 
and  his  right 'palm  on  the  back  of  his  neck;  "I  will,  sir> 
in  five  short  moments,  banish  your  headache  /" 

A  few  rapid  manipulations,  accompanied  with  forcing 
his  breath  smartly  against  the  lawyer's  broad  brow,  and 
lo !  the  pain  was  gone. 

"By  Ca3sar!"  shouted  Mr.  Ruggleston,  "you  are  a 
wizard,  doctor."  Next  thing  will  be  your  arrest  for 
practicing  the  blacfc  art  /"  They  both  laughed  heartily. 

"  Come  now,  doctor,  tell  me  what  you  call  this  pain- 
annihilator. " 

"Certainly,  monsieur,"  the  physician  gladly  responded. 
"  It  is,  sir,  the  art  of  Anthony  Mesmer."  He  continued  : 
"  I  have,  during  my  travels  on  the  Continent,  seen  most 
astounding  facts,  -sir ;  I  find,  sir,  that  animal  magnetism 
is  reviving,  or  rather  steadily  growing,  as  a  recognized 
curative  and  anaesthetic  agent  in  Europe.  Most  of  the 
continental  governments  have  introduced  it  by  law  or 
decree  into  the  hospitals.  In  France  it  is  used  very 
extensively  to  produce  insensibility  under  surgical  opera 
tions.  Germany  makes  a  more  general  use  of  it  in  the 
cure  of  nervous  and  mental  diseases,  from  hysteria  to 
lunacy,  and  Saxony  recognizes  it  by  prescribed  regula 
tions  for  its  operations.  Italian  scientific  societies  have 
latterly  taken  it  up  for  investigation,  and  although  in 
conservative  old  England  the  faculty  s.till  holds  back, 
hisfh  medical  and  scientific  individual  authorities  have 

O 

indorsed  it  as  at  all  events  a  valuable  anaesthetic.  But 
the  subject  has  probably  received  less  attention  in  this 
country  than  in  any  other." 


TREES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  149 

"Why,  really,  doctor,"  responded  Lawyer  Ruggle- 
ston,  "your  subject  is  both  novel  and  enchanting." 

Doctor  Du  Bois  fully  agreed  with  this  remark,  and 
added,  "  It  is,  sir,  the  door  to  the  hidden  dynamics  of 
mind,  soul,  ether,  spirit." 

"  Take  care,  doctor,"  said  the  sociable  and  facetious 
attorney;  "take  care!  In  my  profession,  remember, 
prima  facie  evidence  is  generally  acceptable.  We  don't 
deal  much  in  philosophy  and  metaphysics." 

"Certainly,  sir,"  returned  the  doctor  pleasantly. 
"But  we  physicians  and  we  bachelors  go  a  little  deeper 
than  the  mere  animal  sense  of  the  thing." 

"Is  that  the  way  you  cultivate  brains,  doctor — by 
remaining  unmarried,  and  spending  your  time  in  study 
ing  metaphysics  in  your  selfish  isolation  ?" 

"  Isolation !"  replied  the  doctor^  with  thoughtful  and 
modest  gravity.  "  Isolation,  sir,  though  painful  to  the 
social  faculties,  is  sometimes  very  favorable  to  the  spirit's 
interior  expansion.  Shelly's  Revolt  of  Islam,  you  recol 
lect,  contains  Cythna's  glowing  account  of  her  exile,  in 
a  desolate  cave : 

'  My  mind  became  the  book  through  which  I  grew 

Wise  in  all  human  wisdom,  and  its  cave, 
Which  like  a  mine  I  rifled  through  and  through, 

To  me  the  keeping  of  its  secrets  gave — 
One  mind,  the  type  of  all  the  moveless  wave 

Whose  calm  reflects  all  moving  things  that  are, 
Necessity,  and  love,  and  life,  the  grave,  * 

And  sympathy,  fountains  of  hope  and  fear, 
Justice,  and  truth,  and  time,  and  the  world's  natural  sphere.'" 

Mr.  Ruggleston  smiled  Avith  unfeigned  satisfaction, 
and  said:  "Doctor,  am  I  to  understand  that  you  apply 
Cythna's  language  to  yourself?" 

"  Certainly,  sir;  that  is,  I  apply  to  myself,  and  to  my 
experiences,  the  sense  of  the  passage." 


150  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

"Why,  really,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer,  suddenly 
rising,  "  I  am  neglecting  my  clients  to  hear  you  quote 
poetry  and  expound  incomprehensible  metaphysics." 

They  immediately  changed  the  subject.  "  What 
important  criminal  cases  have  you  now  in  process  ?" 
asked  the  doctor. 

"  I  have  two  very  trying,  sad  cases,"  replied  the  law 
yer.  Then,  after  a  little  thought,  he  added :  "  One  of 
these  cases  is,  without  exception,  the  most  painful,  the 
most  troublesome,  the  most  diabolically  complicated  case 
that  ever  occurred  in  my  twenty  years'  practice." 

"  Possibly,  then,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  with  fresh  interest 
beaming  from  his  fine  face — "  possibly,  sir,  this  particu 
lar  case  will  aid  me  in  the  prosecution  of  my  investi 
gations."  Then  he  continued,  "  Speaking  from  a  medical 
stand-point,  sir,  I  would  remark  that  there  are  pain  and 
trouble  and  anxiety,  and  sometimes  untimely  death 
itself,  before  there  is  a  birth.  This,  sir,  is,  I  think,  a  law 
in  the  mental  as  well  as  the  natural  external  world. 
All  the  discoveries  which  have  benefited  the  human  race 
have  been  originated  amid  doubts,  distrusts,  difficulties, 
and  even  persecution.  Scarcely  a  great  inventor  is 
lapped  in  luxury,  for  if  he  were  to  be,  he  would  not 
exert  his  mind  to  produce  those  concealed  beauties  and 
uses  of  the  Deity  which  are  every  year  revealed  by 
noble,  self-sacrificing  efforts  for  the  benefit  of  man  and 
the  glory  of  God.  These  difficulties,  however,  serve  but 
to  perfect  the  out-births  of  the  world  of  Principles,  from, 
which  we  draw  every  thing  that  is  good,  useful,  and  ben 
eficial.  Thought  gestates  to  perfect,  and  if  man  were  to 
produce  without  trouble,  he  would  lose  the  exercise  of 
those  faculties,  the  development  of  which  can  alone 
ennoble  his  being.  Let  us  not  mourn,  therefore,  over 
our  difficulties,  however  troublesome  they  may  appear  to 
be,  but  gather  strength  and  energy  to  overthrow  obsta- 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  151 

cles,  consoled  by  the  reflection  that  the  dark  hours  are 
requisite  to  produce  the  brightness  of  the  coming  day." 

"A  philosopher,  truly,"  remarked  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 
Then  referring  back  to  the  physician's  trip  to  Europe  and 
elsewhere,  he  asked :  "  By  the  way,  doctor,  may  I  inquire 
the  chief  motive  you  had  for  your  five  years'  pilgrimage?" 

"  Certainly,  sir ;  with  very  great  pleasure,  I  tell  you, 
sir,  it  was  this — to  find  a  lady  /" 

The  good-natured  lawyer  laughed  outright,  and  said, 
"  Aha,  aha — a  lady  !  a  bachelor  in  pursuit  of  knowledge 
and  happiness  in  the  bewitching  shape  of  a  lady,  eh? 
Well,  doctor,  now  may  I  further  ask,  were  you  success 
ful  ?" 

"  Ah  !  no,  monsieur,"  replied  the  physician,  with  undis 
guised  emotions  of  sadness  and  gloomy  disappointment. 

"What's  the  lady's  name,  doctor?  I  hope  that's  no 
secret." 

"Eighteen  years  ago,"  said  the  doctor,  "her  name 
was  Madam  Sophia  Aragoni.  I  have  not  seen  her 
since.  She  was  at  that  time  a  widow.  In  Paris,  I  ascer 
tained  that  she  had  contracted  a  second  marriage.  I  fol 
lowed  the  track  of  her  pleasure  journeys  into  the  differ 
ent  countries  mentioned,  traced  her  back  to  Spanish 
America,  thence  to  a  suburban  chateau  at  Mobile,  in  the 
State  of  Alabama ;  and  there,  by  the  merest  chance,  I 
encountered  a  murderous,  burly-looking  fellow,  who 
apprised  me  that  the  lady  lost  her  second  husband,  and 
was  now  living  somewhere  in  the  city  of  New-York." 

"  A  very  long  and  difficult  and  expensive  journey 
merely  for  a  lady  who  has  been  twice  married,"  said  the 
lawyer,  dryly. 

"  No,  no,  monsieur,"  interrupted  the  doctor  warmly, 
"  I  would  positively  journey  three  times  around  the  great 
round  earth  to  find  that  lady,  sir." 

"  Perhaps,  doctor,  you  may  meet  her  without  travel. 


152  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

ing  the  whole  world  over.     Stranger  things  than  that 
have  occurred." 

"  Ah  !  true,  sir,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  despairing 
shrug.  "  Bub  now  I  almost  sink  with  the  weight  of  my 
disappointment." 

"  Now,  doctor,  pray  tell  me,  do  you — a  lone,  scienti 
fic  bachelor — really  love  that  lady  ?" 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  doctor  quickly,  "  I  do  not  dare  to 
say  how  much  I  adore  the  memory  of  her  most  beautiful 
image." 

"  Well,"  said  the  lawyer  sympathizingly,  "  well,  doc 
tor,  I  am  sure  that  I  can  not  aid  you  in  the  furtherance 
of  that  particular  branch  of  your  investigations."  He 
thought  a  moment,  and  then  asked,  "  Have  you  searched 
the  City  Directory  ?" 

"  Searched  !"  exclaimed  the  doctor — "  searched  ! 
Why,  sir,  I  have  stealthily  examined  every  womanly 
face  that  has  appeared  in  the  streets  since  my  arrival. 
My  longing  eyes  peer  into  every  female  countenance.  In 
vain,  sir ;  all  in  vain." 

"  Was  she,  the  lady  you  speak  of,  a  gifted  woman  ?" 
inquisitively  asked  the  lawyer. 

"  Gifted !"  returned  the  warm-hearted  physician — "gift 
ed  !  Sir,  she  was  positively  peerless !  Under  my  mag 
netic  hand,  sir,  she  became  a  clairvoyante.  Her  spirit 
soul,  mind,  heart,  shone  like  an  angel's.  Grand  and 
beautiful  utterances  !  In  perfect  raptures,  sir — over  and 
over  again,  sir — I  have  read  her  marvelous  inspiration. 
Listen,  sir !"  The  doctor  drew  a  piece  of  paper  from  a 
pocket-book  he  carried  in  his  left  breast  of  his  under 
coat. 

"  Now,  kind  monsieur,  hear  how  this  entranced  lady 
speaks  of  her  better  and  her  higher  self."  The  medical 
man's  enthusiasm  grew  warmer  and  warmer.  He  said, 
"  Yes,  my  honored  sir,  hear,  if  you  please — hear  the  very 
words  which  spirit  speaks  to  spirit.  She,  the  adorable 


TKEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  153 

angel !  is  here  speaking — mark  you,  sir — is  here  speaking 
of  her  interior  self;  of  which,  however,  when  not  clair 
voyant,  she  was  unconscious.  Listen !  This  is  it : 

k. 

"  The  insatiableness  of  her  desires  is  an  augury  of  the  soul's 
eternity.  Yearning  for  satisfaction,  yet  ever  balked  of  it  from 
temporal  things,  she  still  prosecutes  her  search  for  it,  and  her  faith 
remains  unshaken  amidst  constant  disappointments.  She  would 
breathe  life,  organize  light ;  her  hope  is  eternal ;  a  never-ending, 
still-beginning  quest  of  the  God-head  in  her  own  bosom  ;  a  perpe 
tual  effort  to  actualize  her  divinity  in  time.  Intact,  aspirant,  she 
feels  the  appulses  of  both  spiritual  and  material  things  ;  she  would 
appropriate  the  realm  she  inherits  by  virtue  of  her  incarnation  : 
infinite  appetencies  direct  all  her  membersxm  finite  things ;  her 
vague  strivings  and  Cyclopean  motions  confess  an  aim  beyond  the 
confines  of  transitory  natures  ;  she  is  quivered  with  heavenly  de 
sires  ;  her  quarry  is  above  the  stars  ;  her  arrows  are  snatched  from 
the  armory  of  heaven." 

"  Ah  !  yes,  yes — very  pretty,  very  pretty,  indeed,  doc 
tor — but,  I  must  confess,  that,  to  my  mind,  it  isn't  pri- 
ma  facie  evidence  of  any  thing." 

The  physician's  countenance  suddenly  saddened.  Af 
ter  a  short  silence,  however,  he  politely  said,  "Adieu, 
Monsieur  Ruggleston — I  will  see  you  again,"  then 
left  for  his  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  HATE  is  my  element,  and  strife 
The  joy  and  glory  of  my  life." — The  Maniac. 

WHAT  of  Madam  Sophia  Nelson  during  the  past  five 
years  ? 

But  a  very  short  walk  west  of  Broadway,  less  than  four 
blocks,  and  just  a  few  doors  from  Grand  street,  we  find 
what  is  among  the  knowing  ones  universally  styled 
"  Nell  Palfry's  Palace  of  Pleasure" — an  establishment 


154  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

perfectly  equipped  and  gaudily  furnished — the  celebrat 
ed  brilliant  rendezvous  of  the  most  prominent  and 
wealthy  men,  both  resident  and  foi'eign. 

It  will  now  be  necessary,  however,  to  step  back  in  this 
painful  history  about  four  years.  We  find  that  the 
wounded  Captain  Nelson  is  still  confined  to  his  room. 
He  is  emaciated  and  pale,  from  long  housing  and  the 
inevitable  exhaustion  consequent  upon  frequent  hemor 
rhages. 

The  terrible  wound  in  his  breast,  by  which  some  pul 
monary  vessels  were  severed,  obstinately  refused  to 
heal.  He  had  received  a  stab  from  an  outraged,  infuri 
ated,  and  desperate  woman.  The  bright,  sharp-pointed 
dagger — sent  with  the  blinding  swiftness  of  lightning, 
and  driven  to  its  purpose  with  the  savage  strength  of 
vengeance — had  entered  the  citadel  of  his  corrupt  life ; 
and  thus  for  months,  indeed  for  almost  a  whole  year, 
Captain  Nelson  was  kept  trembling  on  the  verge  of  the 
grave,  which  to  him  was  a  narrow  causeway  to  the  dark 
unknown.  Yes,  there  he  remained  day  after  day,  a  pri 
soner  in  the  hands  of  the  beautiful  and  graceful  Madam 
Sophia,  who  was  now  the  only  recognized  and  respected 
proprietor  and  manager  of  the  property  and  family. 

Madam  Nelson,  however,  never  lost  for  a  single  mo 
ment  her  proud,  amiable  self-possession  ;  although,  many 
times,  she  was  wrought  \ip  to  the  highest  pitch  of  san 
guinary  fury,  by  the  insulting  language  of  the  wounded, 
weak,  wicked,  and  horribly  impatient  man. 

We  must  not  stop  to  chronicle  their  many  and  almost 
murderous  quarrels.  He,  the  calculating  villain,  was 
now  mastered  by  circumstances  and  completely  in  her 
power.  Day  by  day  her  hatred  strengthened.  She  re 
garded  him  with  maddening  disgust.  Although  she 
alone  kindly  nursed  and  cared  for  him  throughout  his 
whole  year  of  wretched  confinement,  yet  she  could 


TREES  OF  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  155 

not,  uo,  not  for  an  hour,  forget  that  he,  under  the  guise 
of  pure  friendship  and  unselfish  love,  was  the  author  of 
her  social  degradation  and  consequent  disgi-ace. 

But  in  proportion  as  her  hatred  for  him,  and  indeed 
for  all  men,  increased  in  its  fury  and  intensity,  in  that 
same  proportion  did  her  affection  for  unmarried  females, 
and  indeed  for  all  women,  increase  in  passionateness  and 
influential  power. 

One  day,  immediately  after  the  captain  and  Sophia 
had  quarreled  up  to  the  pitch  of  furious  encounter,  she 
said,  "  Sir,  since  the  terrible  night  of  the  murderous 
outbreak  between  us,  I  have  found  out  enough  evidence 
against  you  to  send  you  to  the  gallows." 

He  cursed  and  damned  her  between  his  shut  teeth, 
and  said  that  he  "  defied  her."  But  fear  Avas  unknown 
to  her  Spanish  blood.  She  brandished  a  knife  in  her  hand, 
and  seemed  about  to  pounce  upon  the  weak  and  almost 
bloodless  villain.  He  was  helpless,  in  her  power — and 
made  no  effort.  Then  hurling  the  knife  from  her,  and 
fixing  her  scornful  and  impassioned  gaze  upon  him,  she 
said  : 

"  Sii*,  my  own  grand  establishment  on  the  west  side 
of  Broadway  is  completed.  To-morrow,  my  large  family 
of  beautiful  girls  will  leave  this  horrible  place.  Sir !  the 
pictures  and  furniture,  the  plate  and  tapestries,  and  all 
the  movable  property  in  this  houte,  are  mine.  Every 
thing  will  be  immediately  removed  to  my  own  grand  hotel. 
Sir !  your  cursed  body  is  enough  restored  to  pass  for  "well." 
Go,  sir  !  Dare  not  enter  the  door  of  my  own  establish 
ment." 

Then  suddenly  taking  the  cast-away  knife  in  her  white 
hand,  and  rushing  ferociously  toward  him,  and  brand 
ishing  the  glittering  blade  in  the  air  just  over  his  head, 
Avhile  he,  bewildered  and  despairing  and  shrinking,  sat 
in  the  chair  by  the  window,  she  exclaimed,  "  Sir !  en- 


166  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

ter  the  door  of  my  new  house — let  me  see  your  hateful 
face  within  my  splendid  establishment — and  this  knife 
shall  enter  your  devilish  heart !" 

They  separated.  He  to  his  old  pursuits  as  detective, 
and  to  plot  the  overthrow  of  poor  distracted  Sophia ; 
she  to  her  new  work  of  playing  the  part  of  "  destroy 
ing  angel,"  in  a  more  fashionable  ward  in  the  fast-grow 
ing  commercial  and  manufacturing  city  of  New- York. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  NOTHING  goes  for  sense  or  light, 
That  will  not  with  old  rules  jump  right ; 
As  if  rules  were  not  in  the  schools 
Derived  from  truth,  best  truth  from  rules." 

Hudibras. 

THE  great  financial  and  mercantile  metropolis  of  the 
western  world  had  now  a  popular  and  successful  Aspasia. 
Her  rare  brilliant  personal  beauty ;  her  exquisite  ad 
dress  ;  her  irresistibly  electrical  laugh ;  her  ravishing 
power  of  song  ;  her  great  and  varied  accomplishments  ; 
her  popular  mental  culture  ;  her  natural  affectionate- 
ness  ;  her  frankness ;  her  perfectly  healthy  and  whole 
some  physical  appearance;  her  inexhaustible  cheerful 
ness  and  magnetic  vivacity — all  concentrated,  all  aggre 
gated,  and  displayed  in  one  grandly  ornamented  and 
magnificently  furnished  residence — which  was  made 
by  uniting  two  adjoining  large  brick  dwellings  into 
one  immense  private  house — and  who  can  wonder  that 
such  a  place  became,  in  a  short  time,  the  rendezvous  for 
prominent  men  and  wealthy  pleasure-seekers  ? 

The  street  door,  however,  was  watched  and  efficiently 
guarded  day  and  night.  Bowery  boys  and  city  roughs, 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  157 

and  the  little  mobs  of  prowling,  drifting,  carousing 
creatures,  who  are  inseparable  from  the  debasements 
and  propagations  of  great  cities,  were  never  permitted 
to  enter  the  aristocratic  establishment  of  Madam  Nelson. 

She  was  soon  celebrated,  consequently,  and  sometimes 
styled  the  "  Asphodel  of  courtesans."  Prominent  poli 
ticians,  and  men  of  most  respectable  families — gifted 
and  influential  men — could  alone  gain  access  to  her  re 
nowned  and  gorgeous  palace  of  pleasure.  The  wine 
from  her  cellar  was  celebrated  for  its  exquisite  flavor 
and  spirit.  Her  supper-rooms  excelled  in  every  luxury 
of  ornament ;  and  the  dinners  which  were  nightly  served 
in  her  saloons  surpassed  in  sumptuousness  and  excellence 
every  thing  of  the  kind  in  the  noble  city  of  New-York. 
So,  too,  of  her  brilliant  halls,  the  card  and  dice  tables, 
and  the  private  stalls  for  those  who  fancied  more  retire 
ment — in  fact,  nothing  superior  to  Sophia's  magnificent 
ly  appointed  hotel  was  ever  known  west  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean. 

The  resources  of  the  toilet  were  tasked  to  their  ut 
most.  And  yet  what  shocking  disenchantments !  No 
one  can  tell  what  will  happen  when  woman's  faith  in 
man  is  shattered.  The  sacred  mysteries  of  lovely  wo 
man — the  vailed  beauties  of  personal  form  and  life — 
may  be  freely  and  profanely  revealed.  When  woman 
is  demoralized  by  man's  treachery,  she  becomes  on  the 
instant  his  deadliest  foe.  Her  whole  nature  turns  fierce 
ly  to  rend  her  enemy.  Pier  native  modesty,  which  vails 
the  holiest  feelings  and  finest  attractions  of  her  soul  and 
body,  is  literally  thrown  upon  the  ground  with  the 
broken  idols  of  her  love.  She  turns  upon  man  to  de 
vour  him.  Her  frailties,  her  weaknesses,  her  shortcom 
ings,  and  even  her  great  and  deathless  virtues,  are  com 
bined  with  the  fascinations  of  the  aesthetic  toilet  to  at 
tract  and  consume  her  enemy.  She  smiles  mockingly  in 


158  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

her  heart  upon  every  man's  profession  of  love.  Once 
she  loved  truly,  but  she  lost  what  she  loved ;  and  now 
she  is  but  a  fading  flower  exhaling  the  aroma  of  bitter 
ness,  despair,  and  death.  She  meets  the  stranger  no 
longer  with  gentle  grace  and  downcast  eyes.  No  fear, 
no  love,  no  grace,  no  modesty.  Her  shattered  and 
abandoned  nature  is  turned  inside  out  for  man's  inspec 
tion  and  dissection.  He  beholds  in  her  condition  the 
ruin  he  has  mercilessly  accomplished. 

We  now  return  to  Madam  Nelson  and  her  New-York 
establishment.  She  was  passionately  fond  of  the  beauty 
and  perfume  of  flowers.  In  one  grand  room  she  had  a 
large  collection  of  the  choicest  plants.  Their  fragrance 
floated  everywhere  and  filled  the  palace  through  and 
through.  The  private  splendors  of  kings  and  queens — 
the  glittering  mantle  by  which  poor  Sophia  shielded  her 
secret  vengeful  hatred  for  mankind — rendered  her  place 
attractive  and  possible  of  access  only  to  men  of  fine 
taste  and  abundance  of  money.  Her  beautiful  family 
of  girls — arranged,  as  they  were  in  maidenhood,  in  white 
drapery  and  cheering  crimson  raiment,  and  nightly 
glowing  with  wine  and  sparkling  with  fascinating  jests 
and  arch  repartee — clung  like  so  many  helpless,  drown 
ing  children  to  the  warm,  companionable,  sympathetic, 
and  truly  motherly  heart  of  the  unhappy  lady. 

The  New- York  boys,  however,  who  could  not  gain 
admission  to  Madam  Nelson's  hotel,  which  had  now  be 
come  universally  notorious  but  aristocratical,  commenced 
to  abbreviate  her  name,  and  to  shorten  the  style  of  her 
house  in  their  rowdy  jokes  and  slang  conversations. 
"  Sophia  Nelson's  Palace  of  Pleasure  "  was  the  original 
name  and  customary  designation ;  and  she  and  it  were 
so  known  and  so  named  among  the  fashionable  habitues 
of  her  dazzling  home  of  destruction.  But  the  less 
polite  young  men  of  the  Bowery  had  a  habit  of  sudden- 


TKEES  OF  CRIME  IN   FULL  BLOSSOM.  159 

ly  shortening  words.  Abruptly,  and  with  every  sign  of 
disrespect,  they  called  the  establishment  "  Nell's  Pal." 
After  a  while  those  who  patronized  "  Nell's  Pal "  were, 
by  the  excluded  and  contemptuous  roughs,  stigmatized 
as  "  Fry  "  of  the  codfish  aristocracy.  Then  and  thus 
came  the  final  extinguishment  of  the  original  name. 
Thenceforward,  the  woman  and  the  place  were  desig 
nated  by  the  short  phrase,  "  Nell  Palfry's."  Thousands 
of  citizens  of  the  United  States  undoubtedly  recall  the 
name  of  "  Nell  Palfry" — the  honey-tongued  Asphodel  of 
pleasure — the  broken-hearted  yet  proud  and  brilliant 
Aspasia  of  New- York. 

Of  this  unhappy  woman  a  few  more  explanatory 
words  are  here  necessary.  She  was,  strange  to  say,  a 
model  of  temperance,  drinking  nothing  stronger  than 
wine,  and  that  very  sparingly.  She  was  personally 
unapproachable  by  sensualists.  She  never  permitted 
any  familiarity  to  go  beyond  a  certain  point.  As  a 
rule  she  never  used  profane  or  vulgar  expressions.  No 
gentlemen  were  permitted  to  disturb  this  known  by-law 
of  the  establishment.  Moreover,  she  allowed  no  one  to 
trespass  upon  the  financial  department.  Every  guest, 
therefore,  was  required  to  promptly  and  fully  satisfy 
every  bill  against  him ;  the  penalty  for  failure  being  a 
peremptory  refusal  of  admission  from  that  night  hence 
forward.  She  had  at  her  command  several  of  the  most 
trusty  and  capable  men  assistants,  and  faithful  women- 
servants,  too,  who  devotedly  loved  their  queenly  mis 
tress.  Therefore,  by  all  guests  and  inmates,  the  rules  of 
her  magnificent  hotel  were  respected  and  obeyed. 

Another  remarkable  and  significant  fact  in  this  por 
tion  of  our  sad  history,  is  worthy  of  mention ;  not 
more — indeed,  less — than  one  half  of  Nell  Palfry's  gen 
tlemen  visitors  were  practical  epicures  and  sensualists. 
Many  men  visited  her  attractive  rendezvous  simply  for 


160  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

observation  and  only  ordinary  indulgence.  They  would, 
for  example,  play  cards,  drink  wine,  smoke  cigars,  be 
merry  for  a  couple  of  hours,  pay  their  large  bills,  and 
depart — all  which,  in  shortest  phrase,  these  visitors  to 
her  hotel  facetiously  styled  "  seeing  a  bit  of  life." 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  therefore,  that  all  men  are 
sensualists  any  more  than  are  all  women  courtesans. 
Gamblers  are  not  always  intemperate.  Thieves  are  not 
always  dishonest  among  themselves.  Some  celebrated 
gamesters  are  models  of  obedience  to  all  known  laws  of 
health.  Many  celebrated  courtesans — or,  at  least,  many 
beautiful  and  free-mannered  women  who  have  been  uni 
versally  regarded  as  hopelessly  "  abandoned  " — have 
each  been  devoted  to  one,  accepted  lover.  With  the  ex 
ception  of  the  seal  and  protection  of  the  legal  marriage 
such  have  been  strictly  chaste.  When  changing  lovers, 
the  illegal  woman  is  doing  what,  in  respectable  society, 
is  equivalent  to  marrying  again  ;  thus  one  courtesan 
may  have  no  greater  number  of  lovers  outside  of  wed 
lock  than  many  a  woman  has  had  husbands  according 
to  marital  statute  law.  Therefore,  in  estimating  the  vir 
tues  of  women  and  the  virtues  of  men,  we  are,  in  strict 
justice  for  the  sake  of  humanity's  credit,  driven  to 
probe  for  truth  far  deeper  than  the  meaning  of  mere 
time-honored  customs  and  legislative  enactments.  There 
may  possibly  be  such  a  thing  as  "  virtue  "  among  un 
married  lovers  ;  and  there  may  possibly  be  such  a  thing 
as  "  vice  "  among  those  who  live  sensually  in  the  mar 
riage  relation  and  under  the  honored  seal  of  state.  All 
questions  as  to  what  is  essentially  moral  are  not  infalli 
bly  settled. 


TEEES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  161 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"  Lo !  all  are  links  in  nature's  endless  chain  ; 
The  hand  that  forged  them  never  wrought  in  vain." — Barlow 

THE  past  five  years  had  wrought  even  greater  revolu- 
.  tions  in  the  affairs  of  the  Secret  Association  of  robbers, 
swindlers,  and  criminals,  whose  principal  hiding-place 
outside  of  New- York  was  the  subterranean  "  Hell,"  some 
where  on  Long  Island. 

When  the  quarrelsome,  bestial  members  of  that  bloody 
fraternity  heard  of  the  almost  fatal  "  accident "  which 
had  befallen  their  sovereign  Captain  Nelson,  they  began 
to  feel  gloomy  and  terrible.  They  disputed  and  fought 
like  tigers  among  themselves.  The  captain  had  planned 
all  their  business  during  eight  years,  and  had  personally 
superintended  its  execution.  They  were  now  without 
a  leader  and  could  not  undertake  the  accomplishment  of 
any  important  work  in  their  peculiar  line. 

One  night,  however,  about  six  months  after  the  con 
finement  of  their  captain,  and  when  all  the  members  of 
the  association  were  assembled  in  the  "  Hell, "they  com 
menced  to  urge  the  youth  to  take  the  oath  and  assume 
command  of  the  association.  There  was  a  certain  ener 
gy,  a  daring,  and  a  power  in  the  young  fellow,  which 
the  robbers  instinctively  accepted  as  evidences  of  master 
ship. 

And  so  young  robber  Wilson,  who  was  somewhat  tall, 
and  very  old-looking  for  a  youth  of  his  few  years,  was 
unanimously  nominated,  and  voted  chieftain  by  acclama 
tion.  He  looked  down-hearted,  however ;  heard  every 
thing,  but  made  no  answer.  Then,  observing  his  des 
pondency,  the  band  of  villains  closed  in  around  him. 


162  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

They  commenced  to   sing  parts  of  songs ;  but  finally 
they  struck  in  and  sang : 

"  Cheer  up,  cheer  up,  old  jolly  boy, 
Why  wear  that  solemn  face  ? 
There  is  no  good  without  alloy, 
And  hell's  a  mirthful  place. 

"  The  gambler  finds  his  loaded  dice  ; 
The  king  his  burning  throne. 
There  is  on  earth  no  quaint  device 
But  in  the  hells  is  known. 

"  The  godless  priest  a  pulpit  finds, 

So  merrily  flies  the  day ; 
And  evil  thoughts  like  stormy  winds 
Are  rolling  round  our  way." 

Fred  Wilson,  in  a  tone  of  angry  authority,  exclaimed : 
"Dragons!    do    you  dare  to  picture  to   yourselves 
your  future  ?  " 

They  heard  his  question,  but  no  tongue  moved  in  re- 

pty- 

Suddenly,  young  "Wilson  raised  his  hand  and  said, 
"  Fellows !  It  is  time  to  break  up.  Start !  Go  each 
his  own  way."  Then  addressing  Joudre,  he  added, 
"  You,  with  a  hellish  red  head  and  the  claws  of  a  bloody 
tiger,  stay  !  I  have  a  word  and  some  work  for  you." 

Forthwith  the  savage  members  of  that  criminal  frater 
nity  went  forth  and  scattered  themselves  throughout 
the  darkness.  Each  was  savagely  bent  on  his  own  pri 
vate  evil  interest.  They  started  for  the  city  of  New-York. 
Only  young  Wilson  and  the  grim  Joudre  remained  in 
the  subterranean  hell.  Wilson  said, 

"  Now,  Joudre,  you  wretched  monster !  Now  say 
your  own  say  and  be  quick.  What  is  that  hellish  secret 
you  have  been  wanting  to  tell  me  ?  Speak  now — 
speak ! " 


TKEES  OP  CKIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  163 

Joudre  rubbed  his  great  rough  hands  together.  Then 
he  jerked  up  the  waistband  of  his  trowsers.  A  few 
grunts  and  a  few  growls,  and  he  commenced : 

"  Boy !  death  han't  nothing  to  a  beast  like  me.  I 
swear  I  know  that  well  enough.  But  I  swear  and  I 
swear  that  I  don't  Avant  to  go  to  hell  till  I  find  that  'ere 
beautifulest  sister  of  mine." 

"  What  beautiful  sister,  you  black-hearted  villain  ?  " 

"  Enough  of  that  'ere,  boy,"  said  Joudre  threatening 
ly.  "  She's  lost !  Han't  seen  her  for  years.  Don't 
know  nothing  about  her.  Hope  she's  dead  !  Guess  she 
an't,  though.  "Would  be  most  beautifulest  angel  if 
she'd  only  up  and  died." 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  asked  young  Wilson  angrily. 
"  What  can  you  do  ?  You  !  a  market-man  for  human 
flesh  ?  You  answer  me.  How  many  dead  infants,  sealed 
up  in  lead-loaded  tin  cans,  have  you  anchored  between 
the  posts  of  Hell-Gate  ?  You  !  talk  about  having  a  sis 
ter.  God  !  what  a  damned  villain." 

An  angry  tremor  shook  Joudre's  powerful  frame. 
"  Devils  of  fire  ! "  he  violently  shouted,  looking  young 
Wilson  straight  in  the  eyes.  "  Boy  !  did  you  ever 
smell  powder  ?  " 

"  I've  smelt  this  black,  infernal  hell,"  he  good-humor- 
edly  replied, "  and  that's  a  million  times  more  like  brim 
stone." 

Joudre's  excited  temper  cooled  down  immediately. 
After  a  brief  pause  and  a  few  more  growls  and  hitches, 
he  began : 

"  Come,  come,  boy — my  rough  story  is  devilish  short, 
Hark !  Our  captain's  gone  dead.  I  can't  find  my  beau 
tifulest  sister.  Bin  to  the  Mobile  House.  Went  to  the 
Orleans  House.  Next  to  the  Cuba  House.  Sailed  every 
where.  They  say  she's  in  New- York.  I  swear  to  you 
that  I  can't  find  her  boy.  and  that's  bad  too !  " 


164:  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"Joudre,"  interrupted  young  "Wilson,  "  you  take  on 
like  a  cursed  damn  bull-calf.  What  is  the  use  of  a  sis 
ter  ?  I  never  had  a  sister  —  I  never  had  a  mother — I 
never  had  a  home — I  never  wanted  any  thing  but  money, 
and  to  hear — "  then,  after  a  pause,  he  finished  with  the 
word,  "  music !" 

A  hoarse  laugh,  breaking  suddenly  from  Joudre's 
monster  throat,  went  sounding  through  the  dismal  cave. 
"  Music  !  "  he  shouted  with  jeering  and  coarse  derision 
— "  music  !  Who  ever  heard  a  damned  young  rob 
ber  wanting  to  hear  music  ?  " 

The  youth  straightened  up  to  his  full  height,  and  said, 
"  Joudre  !  you  know  that  I  am  not  a  weak  and  sick 
ly  nursing  child ;  but  " — then  he  paused  for  a  moment  and 
added — "  but  I  want  a  mother — I  want  a  home — and  I 
want  to  hear  music  !  " 

"  How  in  the  name  of  all  the  devils  in  hell,  boy,  be 
you  goin'  to  steal  and  murder  your  way  into  all  them 
damn  expensive  comforts  ?  " 

Young  Wilson's  tone  suddenly  changed  to  deep  ear 
nestness  and  melancholy  tenderness. 

"  Joudre ! "  began  the  youthful  robber  chieftain,  with 
ill-concealed  emotion,  while  in  his  trembling  voice  was  a 
tone  of  mournful  solemnity — "  Joudre,  to-night  I  leave 
behind  me  this  dismal  hell." 

"Have  a  care,  boy,  have  a  care,"  interrupted  Joudre, 
with  a  look  of  solicitude  for  young  Wilson's  safety.  "  The 
police  have  a  sharp,  quick  eye  open  for  such  as  yo\i." 

"  My  mind  is  entirely  made  up,  Joudre.  Come  what 
may — be  it  prison,  dungeon,  or  the  gallows — my  mind  is 
made  up.  I  shall  go  ! " 

Joudre's  horrible  countenance  looked  even  more  hor 
rible.  And  yet  the  human  monster  felt  only  emotions  of 
anxiety  and  fear  for  the  youth's  personal  safety.  There 
was  a  certain  something,  about  the  mentality  of  Fred 


TREES  OF  CEIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  165 

Wilson  which  completely  attracted  the  bestial  friend 
ship  of  the  veteran  robber  and  murderer. 

The  young  chief  continued  :  "  You,  Joudre,  I  shall  not 
forget.  You  have  been  to  me  the  fairest  and  the  kind 
est  devil  of  all  the  infernal  devils  in  this  stinking 
hell." 

Joudre's  wild  tiger  eyes  rolled  about  like  those  of  an 
ox,  when  that  laboring  and  patient  animal  is  drawing  a 
heavy  load,  with  the  yoke  a  little  too  small  for  the  great 
size  of  the  willing  neck. 

"  Be  you  goin'  to  New-York,  boy  ?  "  Joudre  asked. 

"  New- York  isn't  big  enough  to  hold  me.  I'm  going 
on  another  cruise.  Once,  Joudre,  I  worked  in  the  cook's 
cabin  ;  and  I  remember  that  I  was  kicked,  and  whipped, 
and  half  murdered  by  that  black  devil.  We  sailed  to 
China.  Then  I  ran  away.  Got  aboard  of  another  ves 
sel  bound  for  New- York.  Again  I  worked  hard  for  the 
meanest,  damnedest,  crudest  captain,  who  said  (the  hell 
ish  liar !)  that  he  kneAV  the  captain  that  bought  me 
with  trinkets  and  blankets  from  an  old  Indian  Avoman  on 
the  Island  of  Cuba.  The  damned  liar  !  ". 

Joudre  looked  at  the  youngster  in  a  state  of  mind  bor 
dering  on  stupefaction. 

"  Well,  Joudre,"  young  Wilson  continued,  "  you  see  I 
can  go  as  seaman  on  a  free  old  sail  around  the  world." 

Suddenly  the  boy's  voice  dropped  tenderly,  and  his 
tones  were  as  affectionate  as  a  gentle  girl's. 

"  Joudre  !  may  be  you'll  never  hear  of  me  again.  You 
had  better  quit  this  hellish  business,  Joudre." 

Tears  filled  his  fine  eyes.  He  paused  a  moment,  and 
then,  "  O  Jondre  !  "  He  stopped.  The  words  would  not 
come.  The  old  robber  was  silent. 

Suddenly  young  Wilson  turned  toward  the  dark  pas 
sage  leading  from  the  cave  to  the  great  wide  world.  In 
the  next  moment  he  had  disappeared.  He  had  fled  from 


166  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

the  robbers'  hell  forever !     He  had  heard  a  voice  saying, 
'  My  son  !   reject  the  evil  and  choose  the  good.' 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 


"  WHETHER  on  the  gallows  high 

Or  in  the  battle's  van, 
The  noblest  way  for  man  to  die 
Is  in  the  cause  of  man." —  Walter. 


IT  will  be  remembered  that  about  four  years  ago  Cap 
tain  John  Nelson,  after  having  been  twelve  mouths  con 
fined  to  the  house  with  his  terrible  wound,  was  peremp 
torily  denied  admission  to  Nell  Palfry's  magnificent  es 
tablishment. 

He  was,  therefore,  forced  to  engage  in  some  enterprise 
for  an  immediate  support.  Weak  and  pale,  but  not  yet 
cured  of  those  hereditary  blood  distempers  which  inces 
santly  urged  him  to  plan  and  to  commit  deeds  of  wick 
edness,  he  set  out  to  do  some  of  this  kind  of  work. 

He  had  lost  all  connection  with  the  secret  association 
of  criminals.  His  first  step  therefore  was  to  renew  their 
acquaintance,  and  then  immediately  to  resume  his  posi 
tion  among  them  as  their  captain.  He  waited  until  it  was 
pitch-dark,  and  then  went  to  the  old  "  Hell  "  on  Long  Is 
land.  Deserted  !  It  was  evident  that  no  meetings  of  the 
robbers  had  been  held  there  for  many  months.  There 
was  no  sign  in  the  dismal  hole  that  even  one  living 
being  had  been  there  for  a  long  time. 

Captain  Nelson,  dispirited,  at  once  returned  to  New- 
York.  He  determined  to  reenter  the  profession  of  detec 
tive.  He  had  not  seen  Lawyer  Ruggleston  for  a  whole 
year. 


TREES  OF  CE1ME  IN  PULL  BLOSSOM.  167 

Mr.  Ruggleston,  in  the  mean  time,  had  taken  into  his 
business  two  partners.  The  legal  firm  in  Wall  street  was 
now  "  Ruggleston,  Stryker  &  Syrdam."  All  real-estate 
and  official  business,  requiring  investigation  and  mature 
judgment,  was  assigned  to  the  senior  partner,  to  Mr- 
Ruggleston  himself.  All  important  equity  cases,  involv 
ing  litigations,  and  argumentative  presentations  to  judges 
and  juries,  were  accepted  by  Mr.  Syrdam  ;  while  all  crim 
inal  cases  were  assigned  to  Mr.  Stryker,  who,  after  the 
senior  partner,  was  notoriously  the  most  efficient  and  suc 
cessful  criminal  lawyer  in  Kings  county. 

The  naturally  agreeable  and  talented  captain,  but  just 
now  looking  very  pale  and  rather  broken  down,  bowed 
politely  to  Mr.  Ruggleston,  and  said : 

"  Any  business  on  the  docket  for  me  ?  " 

"  Business !"  exclaimed  the  lawyer  with  astonishment. 
"  Why,  Nelson,  you  resemble  a  corpse  more  than  a  de- 
tive." 

"Yes,  I've  only  just  got  out  of  bed;  but  I'll  be  all 
right  again  in  a  few  days." 

"  Nelson,  haven't  you  during  your  sickness  lost  all 
knowledge  of  the  New- York  thieves  and  murderers  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Ruggleston,  you  know  that  I'm  only  out  of  prac 
tice.  No  other  man  in  this  city  knows  more  than  I  do 
about  the  hells  and  dens  of  thieves,  gamblers,  and  pro 
fessional  murderers." 

"  But,  Nelson,  you  can  not  now  know  much  about  a 
damnable,  villainous  ring  of  cut-throats  and  robbers  who 
infest  the  lanes  and  alleys,  the  highways  and  byways  of 
New- York  and  Brooklyn." 

"Indeed?"  said  the  captain,  just  a  little  agitated. 
"  What  do  you  refer  to  ?  " 

"  Why,  Nelson,  during  the  past  year  these  broad  acres 
of  brick  and  mortar  have  been  literally  overrun  with  lot 
tery  and  policy  dealers,  with  professional  gamblers  and 


168  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

pickpockets,  with  scamps,  thieves,  assassins,  cut-throats, 
highway  robbers,  and  vagabonds  without  number,  and 
now  a  strong  detective  force  is  organized  and  at  work  to 
break  up  these  diabolical  rings,  and  if  possible  to  bring 
the  scoundrels  to  the  bar  of  justice." 

Captain  Nelson  was  somewhat  alarmed.  Instantly  his 
judgment  informed  him  that  these  villainous  deeds  were 
committed  by  members  of  his  secret  fraternity  ;  and  the 
lawyer  had  now  unwittingly  put  the  whole  state  of  things 
before  him ;  therefore  he  paused  to  reflect  for  only  a  mo 
ment,  however,  and  then,  perfectly  concealing  his  feel 
ings  of  alarm,  said : 

"  Mr.  Ruggleston,  I  am  your  man.  My  men  will  fear 
lessly  and  persistently  hunt  down  these  assassins.  I  am 
acquainted,  sir,  with  some  shameful  facts  connected  with 
the  detective  service.  For  instance,  sir,  I  know  a  ring 
of  professional  bail-goers.  They  systematically  attend 
police  courts,  and  continually  keep  great  scoundrels  at 
large.  The  smartest  villains  and  the  shrewdest  high 
waymen,  with  the  aid  of  certain  attic  lawyers  in  this  city, 
can  at  any  time  buy  themselves  out  of  quod.  And,  sir, 
there  are  lawyers  and  detectives  in  daily  collusion  with 
old  offenders.  Now,  Mr.  Ruggleston,  let  me  assure  you, 
sir,  that  I  am  the  man  who  knows  these  professional 
thieves  and  these  professional  bail-goers,  and  what  is 
more,  sir,  I  am  strongly  of  the  opinion  that  these  public 
villainies  won't  be  materially  lessened  without  some  of 
my  knowledge  and  assistance." 

Captain  Nelson  never  spoke  a  truer  word.  And  it 
seemed  that  the  lawyer  was  sufficiently  impressed  with 
the  impostor's  knowledge  of  great  criminals  to  promise 
him  "  work  in  a  few  days."  Meantime  the  pale  and 
weak  and  wicked  detective  started  out  to  raise  some 
money  by  the  exercise  of  his  own  wondrous  skill. 


TREES  OF   CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  169 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

"  DOWN  in  the  deep  where  darkness  dwells, 
The  land  of  horror  and  despair." — Watts. 

DURING  the  past  five  years,  while  the  trees  of  crime 
were  in  full  blossom,  Captain  Nelson,  together  with  indi 
viduals  of  his  character  and  calling,  had  committed  many' 
small  crimes  and  a  few  of  the  blackest  deeds  of  horror. 
One  of  these  we  will  chronicle,  because  it  led  to  his  final 
arrest  and  overthrow. 

He  had  at  all  times  an  uncontrollable  insanity,  a  mad 
passion  for  the  possession  of  an  immense  property.  This 
money-madness  possessed  his  mind  at  some  seasons,  and 
perverted  and  controlled  his  thoughts.  This  insanity  for 
riches  frequently  was  the  secret  spring  and  inspiring 
cause  of  his  high-handed  crimes. 

In  the  prosecution  of  the  gratification  of  this  impulse, 
he  planned  the  robbery  of  the  money  and  jewelry  of  a 
maiden  lady  named  Miss  Bridgston,  residing  in  one  of 
the  avenues  in  the  upper  and  eastern  part  of  the  city. 
He  assigned  this  branch  of  his  plan  to  two  lads  in  his 
employ.  They  accomplished  it ;  taking  the  booty  to  the 
robbers'  "  Hell."  The  robbers  entered  the  lady's  bed 
chamber  at  night ;  and  frightened  her  so  that  she  could 
not  speak. 

A  few  days  after,  the  police  having  already  confessed 
their  inability  to  find  either  the  thieves  or  the  stolen 
property,  a  largo  reward  was  offered. 

This  state  of  things  gave  detective  Nelson  an  opportu 
nity  to  offer  his  services  and  display  his  distinguished 
skill. 

In  less  than  three  days  all  the  money  and  jewelry  were 
recovered.  All  the  property  was  promptly  restored  to 


170  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

the  delighted  Miss  Bridgston.  The  thieves,  however, 
could  not  be  found.  But  Detective  Nelson,  professing 
great  sympathy  and  regret  for  her  fright  and  inconveni 
ence,  refused  the  lai'ge  reward. 

This  remarkable  generosity  on  the  part  of  so  able  an 
officer,  united  with  his  frequent  subsequent  visits  and 
uniformly  most  gentlemanly  bearing,  gradually  touched 
the  better  feelings  of  the  middle-aged  single  lady,  and 
she  began  to  experience  a  new  interest  in  mankind. 

He  at  length  completely  won  her  aifections.  She  be 
came  wholly  absorbed  in  him.  Her  few  relatives,  how 
ever,  consisting  of  an  elder  unmarried  sister,  a  grand 
mother,  and  an  uncle  living  in  Brooklyn,  all  strongly 
objected  to  Miss  Bridgston's  infatuation. 

Officer  Nelson  admonished  her  to  act  independently 
of  her  relatives,  and  to  do  every  thing  on  her  own  re 
sponsibility.  He  made  her  believe  that  the  objection  of 
her  family  was  based  on  their  selfish  interest  in  her  large 
personal  property  and  real  estate.  She  believed  him 
fully.  Then  he  influenced  ner  to  make  a  will  in  his  fa 
vor.  She  immediately  followed  his  plausible  instruc 
tions. 

Having  all  arranged  as  he  wrished,  he  attempted  noth 
ing  further  for  several  weeks,  but  never  failed  to  visit 
his  new  lady-love  whenever  business  engagements  per 
mitted. 

At  his  lodgings,  Captain  Nelson's  room  was  on  the 
second  floor.  There  was  a  window  opening  into  a  naim- 
row  passage  between  that  and  the  adjoining  brick  dwell 
ing.  He  had  a  rope-ladder,  and  many  times  had  left  the 
house  and  returned  hours  after  through  this  window, 
without  disturbing  the  landlady  or  servant,  and  never 
once  being  detected  by  the  neighbors  or  the  perambulat 
ing  police. 

One  night,  he  professed  to  be  suffering  exceedingly 


TREES  OF  CEIME  FULL  BLOSSOM.  171 

from  his  wound.  He  undressed  himself — leaving  on 
his  person  his  undershirt  and  drawers — violently  rung 
the  bell,  and  then  hurriedly  jumped  into  bed.  When 
the  bell  was  answered  he  was  covered  up,  and  was  groan 
ing  heavily  with  his  assumed  distress.  He  plaintively 
requested  some  assistance — hot  water  to  soak  his  feet,  a 
little  warming  medicines,  and  the  like.  After  both  land 
lady  and  servant  had  waited  upon  him,  they  withdrew 
with  a  request  from  him  to  be  left  undisturbed  in  his 
room  for  at  least  two  hours,  professing  that  he  wanted 
some  sound  sleep  as  much  as  any  thing.  As  soon  he 
was  left  alone,  he  cautiously  and  instantly  locked  his 
door,  dressed  himself  in  a  peculiar  suit  of  clothes,  threw 
his  rope-ladder  out  the  window  in  the  darkness,  and 
away  he  sped  on  his  errand  of  horror. 

It  was  a  cold  and  blustering  night  in  March  when  Cap 
tain  Nelson  proceeded  to  consummate  the  object  of  all 
his  long  courtship  and  persistent  scheming.  His  money- 
madness  had  urged  him  to  plan  the  murder  of  the  spin 
ster,  Miss  Bridgston,  by  which  he  would  come  legally 
into  immediate  possession  of  her  considerable  property. 
He  had  procured  from  the  infatuated  lady  a  promise  to 
meet  him  that  night  at  nine  o'clock,  beneath  a  little 
cluster  of  trees  in  Union  Park  ;  from  thence  he  assured 
the  credulous  and  unfortunate  woman  they  would  pro 
ceed  to  a  minister  and  be  married.  This  was  all  arranged 
on  the  plea  that  any  more  public  attempt  to  be  married 
would  be  frustrated  by  her  relatives. 

Alas !  she  kept  her  promise  faithfully.  She  was  at  the 
appointed  place  exactly  on  the  nroment  agreed  to  be 
tween  them.  It  was  an  unfrequented  spot  at  that  hour, 
and  Nelson  had  with  his  usual  sagacity  calculated  the 
chances  of  observation  and  detection.  The  darkness 
prevented  her  from  seeing  the  skulking  murderous  assas 
sin,  who  was,  when  the  unfortunate  lady  approached 


172  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

the  spot,  concealed  behind  some  shrubbery  on  the  op 
posite  side  of  a  tree.  A  swift,  cat-like  spring,  a  quick 
movement  forward,  a  blow  with  his  knife,  and  the  de 
ceived  lady  was  bleeding  and  dying  upon  the  ground. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  after  this  fiendish  murder, 
Nelson  had  returned  by  the  rope-ladder  to  his  bedroom. 
Instantly  packing  his  clothes  and  the  ladder  in  a  trunk, 
which  he  always  kept  locked,  he  rang  the  bell  and  sprang 
under  the  bed  quilts.  Two  hours  had  not  yet  passed. 
The  landlady  and  servant  at  once  entered.  Nelson 
pretended  to  be  suffering  with  a  fresh  attack  of  pain. 

The  hostess  expressed  her  regret  that  the  poor  man 
had  not  been  able  to  sleep  the  full  two  hours'  nap.  It 
seemed  to  her  but  a  "  very  little  while  "  since  she  had 
left  him  trying  for  some  rest. 

In  case  of  an  arrest  and  trial,  the  impostor  and  mur 
derer  could  have  called  these  witnesses,  proved  an  alibi, 
and  probably  established  his  innocence.  But  he  was  not 
even  suspected. 

Very  early  on  the  following  morning  the  body  of 
Miss  Bridgston  was  found  by  some  mechanics  on  their 
way  to  work.  They  immediately  notified  the  police. 
An  examination  of  the  ground  confirmed  the  suspicion 
that  the  victim  had  died  without  a  struggle.  The  grass 
around  the  spot  was  not  trampled  down,  and  there  was 
nothing  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  murder  to  indicate 
the  least  scuffle  or  encounter.  Only  one  thing  of.  mo 
ment  was  found — a  plain  brass  button,  with  a  little 
piece  of  cloth  about  two  inches  long  clinging  to  it — 
found  shining  in  the  grass  close  by  the  lifeless  body.  Of 
this  mute  little  witness  the  law-officers  took  possession. 

For  a  long  time  the  depraved  assassin  professed  to  feel 
the  utmost  sorrow.  It  was  generally  understood  that 
the  rich  spinster  was  to  become  his  wife.  The  heirs  con 
tested  Miss  Bridgs ton's  will;  they  were  not  successful; 


TKEES   OF   CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  173 

but  Captain  Nelson's  right  and  title  were  at  last  fully 
confirmed. 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  murderous  detective  felt  per 
fectly  safe.  He  heard,  however,  nothing  about  the  finding 
of  "  a  plain  brass  button  in  the  grass."  Various  rumors 
were  afloat  concerning  the  murderer,  but  gradually  all 
speculation  and  excitement  died  away. 

Meanwhile  the  police,  aided  by  the  vigilant  activity 
and  scrutiny  of  the  genuine  detective  force,  were  se 
cretly  at  work  in  the  city,  besides  scouring  the  country 
for  miles  around.  The  anxiety  of  the  public,  which  had 
been  at  one  time  extreme,  was  now  slumbering.  They 
were  about  becoming  disheartened,  when  a  circumstance 
of  importance  occurred. 

A  sailor,  who  gave  the  name  of  "Tom  McRiggy," 
and  professing  to  have  recently  arrived  from  boating  on 
the  Mississippi,  was  detected,  in  a  drinking-cellar  near 
Peck  Slip  Ferry,  examining  and  amusing  himself  with 
the  contents  of  a  lady's  pocket-book.  He  was  arrested 
immediately  and  locked  np  in  the  old  watch-house. 

Next  day,  before  the  police  judge,  the  officer  who 
arrested  the  sailor  testified  that  the  pocket-book,  then 
before  his  honor,  "Avas  in  the  hands  of  the  sailor 
when  he  was  arrested." 

On  examination,  the  full  name  and  address  of  Miss 
Bridgston  was  found  on  a  slip  of  paper  in  the  pocket-book. 
There  was  also  found  in  one  of  the  sailor's  pockets  a 
very  suspicious  letter  from  a  rough  in  New-Orleans. 

Poor  Tom  McRiggy  was  accordingly,  and  in  due 
course  of  law  and  -time,  put  upon  his  trial.  He  was 
ably  defended  by  the  celebrated  criminal  lawyer  Stryker, 
Mr.  Ruggleston's  partner  ;  but  the  chain  of  circumstan 
tial  evidence  against  the  poor  sailor  seemed  too  strong 
to  be  broken. 

Lawyer  Stryker  with  great  ability  explained  to  the 


174  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

jury  all  the  suspicious  circumstances  which  seemed  to 
connect  his  client  with  the  atrocious  murder  of  Miss 
Bridgston.  He  said  that  the  sailor  had  fully  explained, 
that  as  he  was  passing  that  night  through  the  park/he 
suddenly  struck  something  with  the  toe  of  his  boot. 
The  substance  so  struck  sounded  in  the  darkness  like  a 
package  of  silver  coin.  The  sailor  naturally  stopped 
and  searched  about,  when  his  hand  touched  the  pocket- 
book,  which  he  very  naturally  put  in  his  pocket,  and 
then  went  on  his  way.  He  had  not  noticed  that  the 
name  on  the  slip  of  paper  was  the  same  as  the  name  of 
the  murdered  lady ;  and  he  had  thoughtlessly  carried 
the  pocket-book  ever  since  that  night.  The  suspicious 
letter  was  explained  as  having  been  written  by  a  rough 
acquaintance  of  McRiggy's ;  and  the  lawyer  argued  that 
it  could  have  had  not  the  least  connection  whatever 
with  the  murder. 

Nothing,  however,  could  rescue  the  sailor  from  the 
order  which  was  eventually  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  sheriff.  The  poor  homeless  man  was  executed, 
protesting  most  solemnly  to  the  very  last  that  he 
was  "  innocent  of  the  crime."  Oh !  the  awful  injustice  of 
capital  punishment.  One  such  case  as  this  condemns 
the  practice  as  unspeakably  dangerous  to  every  innocent 
man,  and  as  a  miserable  barbarity  when  applied  to  the 
guilty  man,  who  can  not  be  prepared  for  death. 

Subsequently,  a  small  pasteboard  box  was  found  in 
the  room  occupied  by  McRiggy  at  the  "  Sailor's  Home." 
This  box  contained  a  lock  of  fine  gray  hair,  tied  with  a 
silken  thread,  and  pinned  to  the  corner  of  a  fine  linen 
handkerchief.  Upon  one  corner  of  this  fine  handker 
chief,  an  old  woman's  trembling  hand  had  written 
"  Thomas  Marigny,  New-Orleans." 

Other  circumstances  after  came  out  which  proved  be 
yond  doubt  that  the  poor  sailor  was  an  illegitimate  son 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM*.  175 

of  the  notorious  sensualist,  and  that  "  McRiggy "  was 
unquestionably  a  corruption  and  an  abbreviation  of 
"  Marigny,"  which  name  the  unhappy  woman  had  deter 
mined  her  son  should  retain.  The  fine  linen  handker 
chief  once  belonged  to  Don  Carlo  Marigny,  but  had  been 
given  by  the  mother  to  her  son,  accompanied  with  a 
lock  of  her  own  hair.  The  yellow  fever  had  years  be 
fore  carried  the  poor  woman  into  the  grave.  Thus  she 
was  spared  the  horrible  suffering  of  witnessing  the  exe 
cution  of  her  innocent  son. 

All  these  events  happened  during  the  five  years  when 
the  trees  of  crime  were  in  full  blossom. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


"  IN  stillness  deep  I  walk  a  land 

Where  spirit-forms  my  footsteps  greet, 
And  beauteous  thoughts — an  angel  band — 
Chant  low  and  sweet." — Preston. 


WE  return  now  to  the  time  indicated  by  the  conversa 
tion  between  Doctor  Du  Bois  and  Lawyer  Ruggleston, 
in  the  first  chapter  of  this  part  of  our  story. 

Young  Fred  Wilson  has  now  been  absent  from  the 
robber's  "  hell "  about  four  years  and  a  half.  Captain 
Nelson,  although  not  fully  recovered  from  the  eifects  of 
the  stab,  has  acted  four  years  the  assumed  part  of  the 
detective,  and  the  real  part  of  robber  and  murderer. 
And  the  brilliant  and  generous  Nell  Palfry,  who  is  a  uni 
versal  favorite  in  her  great  family  of  girls,  and  among 
her  millionaire  friends,  has  flourished  in  her  gorgeous 
establishment  on  the  west  side  of  Broadway.  The  le 
gal  firm  of  Ruggleston,  Stryker  &  Syrdam  was  doing 


176  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

an  immense  business  in  real  estate,  in  equity  suits,  and 
in  the  great  criminal  cases. 

Every  day  since  his  return,  the  philanthropic  Doctor 
Du  Bois  had  been  deeply  engaged  in  the  grand  object  of 
his  life.  One  evening,  to  keep  an  appointment,  he  called 
at  the  residence  of  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 

"  Ah  monsieur !  "  he  began  with  great  energy, "  I  dash 
in  upon  you  here  in  your  private  home-study,  because  I 
am  in  utter  darkness." 

"  In  utter  darkness,  Doctor  Du  Bois  ?  " 

"  Yes,  quite  so,  monsieur.  If  I  were  in  a  mountain  glen 
with  a  mighty  rock  at  my  back,  and  a  score  of  banditti 
had  corraled  themselves  in  an  ellipse  about  me,  I  would 
not  be  more  enormously  embarrassed." 

"  What  now,  doctor  ?  Why  so  hampered  in  your 
benevolent  enterprises  ?  " 

"Monsieur,  my  hotel  must  be  the  theatre  of  Bacchus. 
Scandalous  gibes,  sir,  and  drunken  grimaces !  One 
guest  with  an  imaginative  and  superior  nature,  but  in 
the  half-way  stage  of  drunkenness,  has  kept  me  night 
after  night  from  sleeping  agreeably  in  my  own  room, 
which  is  adjoining  his." 

Mr.  Ruggleston  was  intensely  amused.  "  Well,  doc 
tor,  these  sons  of  Bacchus  will  help  you  test  the  theory 
of  hereditary  transmission  of  vices,  eh  !  " 

Doctor  Du  Bois  paused,  and  seemed  thinking  deeply. 
"True,  monsieur,"  he  gently  replied,  "true,  I  am  study 
ing  the  characteristics  of  men  and  women,  with  a  view 
to  the  origin  of  their  vices  and  crimes."  Then  with 
much  animation,  he  continued :  "  Sir,  certain  cities 
have  special  features,  as  certain  breeds  of  birds  and 
classes  of  plants  are  developed  and  confined  to  particu 
lar  geographical  provinces.  For  the  perfection  of  alms- 
asking,  for  example,  go  to  Rome  ;  in  Paris  you  find  the 
perfection  of  art  and  skilled  labor  ;  flower-girls  abound 


TREES  OF   CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  177" 

in  Florence ;  in  Geneva  the  most  patient  and  skillful 
watchmakers ;  the  largest  commercial  houses  in  London  ; 
in  New-York  the  most  enterprise  and  the  most  drunk 
ards." 

"  Doctor  Du  Bois,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  last  Sunday  our 
minister  preached  a  sermon  I  wish  you  had  heard." 

"  Ah  !  with  very  much  pleasure,  sir.  Do  you  recall  any 
part  of  the  discourse  that  I  should  have  heard  ?  " 

"  Well,  no ;  not  exactly,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  The 
fact  is,  doctoi-,  I  agree  more  with  my  minister  than  with 
you  about  the  natui'e  and  responsibilities  of  criminals." 

"  What  particular  view  does  the  reverend  gentleman 
advocate  ?  " 

"  My  minister  preaches  that  man  is  a  self-determining 
and  sinning  conscious  power.  He  teaches  that,  for  all 
sinners, 

'  Justice  lias  built  a  dismal  hell, 
And  laid  lier  stores  of  vengeance  there.' 

And  that  one  eternal  storm  of  angry  fire  will  roll  over 
the  naked  souls  of  liars,  thieves,  murderers,  fornicators, 
and  all  damned  sinners  generally.  He  holds  up  before  all 
men  the  gospel,  and  explains  its  saving  ordinations  ;  and 
holds  that  there  is  a  chance  even  for  these  cursed  crimi 
nals.  He  eloquently  maintains  that  sinners  who  taste 
the  second  death  can't  expire.  If  the  old  sinners  begin 
to  faint  in  hell,  God's  angry  breath  fans  the  fire  into 
their  nostrils,  and  up  they  jump  as  lively  as  ever,  and 
then  they  take  another  dose  of 

'  Eternal  plagues  and  heavy  chains, 
Tormenting  racks  and  fiery  coals.' 

On  the  whole,  doctor,  your  dangerous  theories  and 
naturalistic  apologies  for  criminals  received  a  terribly 
scorching  expose  last  Sunday.  The  minister  vividly  por 
trayed  the  time  and  place 


178  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

'  Where  saints  and  angels  from  their  blest  abode, 
Chanting  loud  hallelujahs  to  their  God, 
Look  down  on  sinners  in  the  realms  of  woe, 
And  draw  fresh  pleasures  from  the  scenes  below.' " 

"Science!  Monsieur  Ruggleston.  Facts!  My  inves 
tigations  convey  me  to  firm  foundations.  Hereditary 
origin  of  appetites,  vices,  passions,  and  crimes,  is  de 
monstrable,  sir." 

"  Doctor,  let  me  state  a  case.  During  your  absence  in 
Europe  a  diabolical  murder  was  committed  one  dark 
night  in  this  very  neighborhood,  in  Union  Park,  by  a  va 
gabond  assassin-sailor  named  McRiggy.  The  victim  was 
an  intelligent  and  highly  esteemed  single  lady  of  wealth 
in  this  city,  a  Miss  Bridgston,  who  Avas  soon  to  become  the 
Avife  of  my  old  friend  of  the  detective  corps,  Captain 
John  Nelson.  Now,  sir,  for  the  motive — to  get  her 
pocket-book,  containing  about  thirty  dollars !  " 

"  Was  the  sailor  tried  and  executed  ?  " 

"Yes,  after  several  months  of  hard  work  by  the  detec 
tives,  McRiggy  was  finally  caught  and  hung." 

"  Now,  monsieur,  it  is  impossible,  since  I  never  met 
the  sailor,  to  apply  my  facts  and  principles  to  him.  But 
have  you  never  observed  that,  for  example,  parents  en 
tail  on  their  offspring  their  own  positive  propensities  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  lawyer  thoughtfully,  "  possibly  I  may 
have  made  such  observations.  Yet  I  do  not  comprehend 
their  bearing  in  this  case." 

"  A  father  has  a  passion  for  alcoholic  drinks,"  said  the 
doctor,  with  increased  earnestness.  "Result :  the  son  is  a 
drunkard,  and  the  daughter  deficient  in  parts  of  her  char 
acter.  Monsieur  Fowler  of  your  own  city  gives  the  case 
of  a  Mrs.  Mattock,  who  once  lived  in  Milltown,  near 
West-Chester,  Pa. ;  was  so  notorious  a  toper  that  she  kept 
alcoholic  drinks  by  her  bed,  and  often  drank  a  quart  in 
twenty-four  hours.  All  but  one  of  her  eight  children  are 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  179 

confirmed  sots,  and  this  one,  a  daughter,  is  said  to  love 
the  worm  unduly.'  Again,  one  of  her  daughters,  Mrs:  O., 
wife  of  a  former  tavern-keeper  in  Broad  street,  Philadel 
phia,  is  often  too  drunk  to  see  company,  and  keeps  her 
room  most  of  the  time  from  this  cause — a  beastly  daugh 
ter  of  a  brutish  mother  !  " 

The  lawyer  acknowledged  that  there  was  some  force 
in  these  citations.  Doctor  DuBois,  however,  did  not  stop 
for  remarks,  but  energetically  continued: 

"  The  same  divine  law,  monsieur,  which  transmits  a 
strong  passion,  a  strong  propensity,  or  a  strong  tendency, 
can  as  Avell  bestow  deficiencies  and  weaknesses  in  both 
the  physical  and  mental  constitutions.  Thus,  sir,  hearty 
eaters  beget  excellent  cooks.  The  opposite  is  likewise 
true.  Take  for  an  example  the  father  of  your  honored 
countryman  Benjamin  Franklin.  Of  his  father  he  thus 
speaks:  '  At  his  table  he  liked  to  have,  as  often  as  he 
could,  some  sensible  friend  or  neighbor  to  converse  with, 
and  always  took  care  to  start  some  ingenious  or  useful 
topic  for  discourse,  which  might  tend  to  improve  the 
minds  of  his  children.  By  this  means  he  turned  our  at 
tention  to  what  was  good,  just,  and  prudent,  in  the  con 
duct  of  life ;  and  little  or  no  notice  was  ever  taken  of 
what  related  to  the  victuals  on  the  table  ;  whether  it  was 
well  or  ill  dressed,  in  or  out  of  season,  of  good  or  bad 
flavor,  preferable  to  this  or  that  kind  of  thing ;  so  that  I 
was  brought  up  in  such  a  perfect  inattention  to  those 
matters  as  to  be  quite  indifferent  what  kind  of  food 
was  set  before  me.  Indeed,  I  am  so  unobservant  of  it, 
that  to  this  day  I  can  scarce  tell,  a  few  hours  after  dinner, 
of  what  dishes  it  consisted.' 

"  Now  for  the  result :  Franklin  could  travel,  work, 
think,  and  live,  without  ever  having  his  attention  called 
away  and  distracted  by  the  cravings  of  an  inordinate 
appetite.  It  was  no  hardship  or  trial  for  him  to  walk 


180  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

the  streets  of  Philadelphia  with  only  a  loaf  of  baker's 
bread  to  satisfy  his  hunger." 

Lawyer  Ruggleston  replied  :  "  And  yet,  doctor,  I  do 
not  perceive  the  application  to  the  case  of  a  brutal 
murder." 

"  Monsieur,"  returned  the  doctor,  with  rapidly  increas 
ing  earnestness  of  language,  accompanied  with  the  shrugs 
and  gestures  peculiar  to  his  French  origin — "  monsieur, 
allow  me  to  further  illustrate.  I  will  refer  to  positive 
facts :  The  mother  of  the  poet  Byron  had  a  temper  un 
surpassed  in  violence,  which,  breaking  from  a  certain  high 
pitch  of  intensity,  produced  in  her  body  severe  illness, 
and  in  her  mind  extreme  misanthropy.  Her  husband, 
the  poet's  father,  possessed  excessive  sensuality,  and  his 
mental  constitution  abandoned  to  physical  gratifications. 
Now,  sir,  for  the  result,  take  the  testimony  of  Macaulay  : 
'  Never  had  any  writer  so  vast  a  command  of  the  whole 
eloquence  of  scorn,  misanthropy,  and  despair.  That  Ma- 
rah  Avas  never  dry.  No  art  could  sweeten,  no  draughts 
could  exhaust  its  perennial  waters  of  bitterness.  Never 
was  there  such  a  variety  in  monotony  as  that  of  Byron. 
From  maniac  laughter  to  piercing  lamentation,  there  was 
not  a  single  note  of  human  anguish  of  which  he  was  not 
master.  Year  after  year,  and  month  after  month,  he  con 
tinued  to  repeat,  that  to  be  wretched  is  the  destiny  of 
all;  that  to  be  eminently  wretched  is  the  destiny  of  the 
eminent ;  that  all  the  desires  by  which  we  are  cursed  lead 
alike  to  misery — if  they  are  not  gratified,  to  the  misery 
of  disappointment ;  if  they  are  gratified,  to  the  misery  of 
satiety.  His  principal  heroes  are  men  who  have  arrived 
by  different  roads  to  the  same  goal  of  despair,  who  are 
sick  of  life,  who  are  now  at  war  with  society,  who  are 
supported  in  their  anguish  only  by  an  unconquerable 
pride,  resembling  that  of  Prometheus  on  the  rock,  or 
Satan  in  the  burning  marl;  who  can  master  their  agonies 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.     181 

by  the  force  of  their  will,  who  to  the  last  defy  the  whole 
powers  of  earth  and  heaven.  He  always  described  him 
self  as  a  man  of  the  same  kind  with  his  favorite  creations  ; 
as  a  man  whose  heart  had  been  withered,  whose  capacity 
for  happiness  was  gone,  and  could  not  be  restored  ;  but 
whose  invincible  spirit  dared  the  worst  that  could  befall 
him  here  or  hereafter.  .  . .  From  the  poetry  of  Lord  Byron, 
his  youthful  admirers  drew  a  system  of  ethics,  com 
pounded  of  misanthropy  and  voluptuousness,  a  system 
in  which  the  two  great  commandments  were,  to  hate 
your  neighbor  and  to  love  your  neighbor's  wife.' " 

"  "Undoubtedly,"  replied  Lawyer  Ruggleston,  "  there  is 
some  truth  in  this  theory  of  transmission  of  vices  as  well 
as  virtues.  But  the  application  to  the  case  I  quoted 
is  still  vague  in  my  mind.  Explain  further,  doctor." 

"  Apply  my  facts  to  great  criminals,  monsieur ;  thus, 
from  Monsieur  Fowler's  production,  Hereditary  Descent, 
take  the  case  of  Patty  Cannon,  her  parents,  and  her  sister 
and  brother.  This  notorious  woman  shed  human  blood  as 
lavishly  as  if  it  had  been  water.  She  procured  and  held 
in  subjection  a  desperate  gang,  whose  sole  business  was 
to  perpetrate  the  robberies  and  murders  she  planned,  in 
which  she  generally  took  the  lead,  and  frequently  per 
petrated  murders  single-handed  in  order  to  rob.  One  of 
this  gang  was  afterward  executed,  and  under  the  gal 
lows  disclosed  her  atrocity.  Her  excessive  amativeness 
was  her  coy-duck  with  which  to  allure  victims  within  her 
reach,  and  retain  them  till  she  could  dispatch  them.  She 
fitted  out  a  kidnapping  vessel  to  Philadelphia,  and  with 
negro  stool-pigeons  who  mingled  with  the  colored  people 
of  the  city,  and  under  various  pretenses  decoyed  them 
on  board.  She  kidnapped  and  transported,  first,  to  her 
prison-castle,  and  thence  into  slavery,  hundreds  of  free 
negroes.  Those  who  were  decoyed  on  board,  but  were 
too  old  or  infirm  to  bring  much,  were  unceremoniously 


182  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

drowned.  And  infants,  captured  with  their  mothers, 
which  by  their  crying  endangered  her  safety,  were  mer 
cilessly  knocked  in  the  head  with  a  loaded  whip  made 
for  this  express  purpose.  Several  infant  skeletons  were 
disinterred  in  her  garden  after  her  capture.  For  years 
after  her  crimes  were  publicly  known,  this  resolute  wo 
man  and  her  desperate  gang  kept  the  officers  of  the  law 
at  bay,  but  was  finally  captured  after  a  desperate  resist 
ance,  and  committed  suicide  in  prison.  A  more  atro 
cious  robber  and  murderess  probably  never  existed,  at 
least  in  our  country.  Her  destructiveness,  and  also 
acquisitiveness,  as  well  as  amativeness,  were  enor 
mous. 

"Now,  monsieur,  look  at  her  ancestors.  One  day  her 
father,  becoming  exasperated  with  a  neighbor  about 
some  money-matters,  went  into  a  shop  where  his  enemy 
worked,  and  picking  up  a  suitable  piece  of  timber,  struck 
him  on  the  head  and  killed  him,  for  which  he  was  execu 
ted.  The  mother  of  this  depraved  woman  was  large  and 
fleshy,  and  good-natured,  yet  accused  of  manifesting  un 
due  amativeness.  This  passion  she  transmitted  to  her 
offspring,  who  inherited  also  their  destructiveness  from 
their  father,  and  hence  their  wantonness,  revengefulness, 
and  murderous  ferocity. 

"  Patty's  brother,  impelled  by  the  inherent  force,  com 
mitted  a  crime  which  the  laws  then  punished  with  death, 
and  followed  his  father  to  the  scaffold,  being  in  every  re 
spect  a  badly  organized  man.  Furthermore,  her  sister 
Betsy,  who  married  Bat  Twiford,  was  one  of  the  most 
violent-tempered,  implacable,  and  revengeful  of  women, 
notoriously  licentious,  and  known  to  be  guilty  of  every 
crime  but  murder,  of  which  she  was  suspected.  Her 
tongue  was  the  most  bitter  and  sarcastic  imaginable,  and 
she  was  unparalleled,  far  and  wide,  for  the  most  foul- 
mouthed  abuse  and  shocking  profanity.  Her  amative- 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  183 

ness  and  destructiveness,  like  those  of  her  sister  Patty, 
were  extraordinarily  developed. 

"  Monsieur  Fowler  cites  the  cases  of  ancient  sensualists 
and  tyrants.  Of  Nero :  *  What  one  man  whose  crimes  his 
tory  has  recorded,  ever  committed  enormities  as  numerous 
or  aggravated  as  those  perpetrated  by  this  human  fiend  ? 
What  man  of  wealth  or  worth  did  he  not  doom  to  death, 
and  his  effects  to  confiscation  ?  even  his  venerable  tutor 
Seneca,  the  erudite  scholar  and  profound  philosopher,  not 
excepted !  What  good  deed  did  he  ever  do  ?  What 
crime,  and  in  its  greatest  excess  and  enormity,  did  he  not 
perpetrate !  Even  his  own  mother,  to  whom  he  was  in 
debted  for  his  crown  as  well  as  life,  after  his  repeated 
plots  for  taking  her  life  had  failed,  finally  died  by  the 
matricidal  hands  of  her  monster  son !  Nor  did  he  heed 
her  piteous  supplications  for  life.  His  own  wife,  too,  a 
most  illustrious  woman,  banished,  and  then  murdered, 
and  supplanted  by  that  notorious  harlot  Poppea !  All 
Rome  laid  in  ashes  by  his  command !  The  iron  empire 
destroyed  by  him  !  What  was,  then,  his  parentage  ? 

"  '  Caligula,  whose  atrocities  knew  no  parallel  except  in 
his  brother's  son,  who  wished  his  whole  empire  had  but 
one  neck,  that  he  might  cut  it  off,  was  his  uncle,  and 
Agrippina,  the  very  worst  woman  on  record — most  vio 
lent  in  her  hatred  and  revenge,  and  one  who  plotted  and 
perpetrated  the  death  of  her  own  children,  in  order  to 
place  Nero  on  the  Ca3sarian  throne — his  mother !  His 
father,  Cneius  Domitius,  was  one  of  the  worst  of  men, 
and  his  paternal  grandfather,  Lucius  Domitius  ./Enobar- 
dus,  was  extravagant,  impetuous,  proud,  revengeful,  vio 
lent,  and  cruel.  His  maternal  grandmother,  Agrippina, 
was  violent  and  implacable,  and  exceedingly  ambitious, 
and  her  mother,  Julia — Nero's  great-grandmother  on  his 
mother's  side,  from  whom  he  inherited  most  of  his  vices 


18-i  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

— was  the  daughter  of  Augustus  Caosar,  and  a  dissolute, 
grossly  sensual,  and  abandoned  woman. 

"  '  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  Caesars  were  ren 
dered  what  they  were,  mainly  by  their  excessive  propen 
sities,  directed  by  unbridled  ambition.  Their  passions 
were  enhanced  by  the  largest  possible  indulgence,  and 
incessant  civil  or  foreign  wars ;  and  it  would  seem  that 
all  the  ambition,  along  with  all  the  ferocity  and  sensu 
ality  of  all  the  Caesars,  descended  to  this  last  heir  of  all 
their  vices  as  well  as  their  crown.  The  truth  of  the  laws 
of  transmission,  under  discussion,  admitted,  what  could 
have  been  expected  of  the  Caesars  but  the  parents  of 
Nero,  and  what  of  these  parents  but  that  monster  fiend 
to  whom  they  gave  being  ? 

" '  The  glutton  Yitellius,  Avho  expended  at  the  annual 
rate  of  $100,000,000  on  his  table  alone,  and  would  soon 
have  eaten  up  the  resources  of  the  entire  Roman  empire, 
was  one  of  this  Caesarian  family.  He  sat  down  to  some 
10,000  different  dishes  at  a  single  meal  I ' ' 

There  was  a  prolonged  silence.  These  cases  had  made 
a  deep  impression  on  the  judgment  of  the  honest  lawyer. 
Besides,  he  was  invariably  respectful,  and  never  hastily 
opposed  what  he  often  deemed  his  positive  knowledge 
to  the  speculations  and  theoretical  assumptions  of  pro 
fessional  gentleman.  He  continued  silent  and  thoughtful. 
But  Doctor  Du  Bois  had  not  accomplished  the  object  of 
of  his  interview ;  so  he  changed  the  subject,  and  said  : 

"  Monsieur   Ruggleston  !  "     Then  after   hesitating  a* 

oo  o 

moment  to  think,  he  asked,  "  Can  not  I  enter  the  detec 
tive  service,  if  I  choose  ? 

"  Why,  certainly,  doctor,  and  there  is  plenty  of  work 
for  you ;  but  are  you  now  absolutely  serious  ?  " 

"  Never  more  so  in  my  life,  monsieur.  See  here  1  I 
have  already  prepared  an  advertisement  for  an  assistant." 

"  For  an  assistant  ?  " 


TREES    OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  185 

"  True  ;  and  now  give  me,  if  you  please,  your  opinion 
of  it.  Thus  it  reads  : 

WANTED.- — A  professiona  gentleman  wants  a  young  man  who  has  some  ex 
perience  as  traveling  agent,  assistant  book-keeper,  or  clerk  in  an  office. 
Ability,  sobriety,  integrity,  and  punctuality  will  be  generously  rewarded.     Best 
city  references  not  required  ;    and  t  he  amount  of  compensation  required  no 
object.  Address,  for  two  days,  DOCTOB,  Office  Daily  Gazette,  New-York." 

Lawyer  Ruggleston  laughed  heartily,  and  said  : 

"  Rather  mysterious  and  refined,  doctor ;  as  well  as  vig 
orous  and  extraordinaiy.  Now,  what  do  you  propose  to 
accomplish  with  such  an  uncommon  specimen  of  mascu 
linity  ?  " 

"  Ah  sir !  you  shall  see ;  you  shall  see  !  " 

"  Well,  doctor,  can  I  aid  you  in  this  remarkable  en 
terprise  ?  " 

"  Ah !  immensely,  monsieur.  For  a  moment,  pray,  lis 
ten  :  I  have  first  to  deal  with  delicate  and  effeminate  na 
tures.  And  as  I  am  a  stranger  in  the  city,  your  services 
are  now  necessary.  The  crime  is  abortion  and  infanti 
cide.  Foeticide  is  the  principal  business  of  one  Madam 
La  Stelle.  This  woman  is  at  once  one  of  the  most  unrea 
sonable  and  one  of  the  most  entertaining  of  her  sex.  She 
is  plain,  impulsive,  severe,  and  headstrong ;  and  she  is 
also  one  of  the  most  sagacious,  witty,  and  confiding." 

"  Granting  it  all,  doctor,  how  can  you  reach  such  a 
case  with  your  young-man  assistant  ?  " 

"  Ah  sir !  I  have  it  all  planned,  if  only  you  can  intro 
duce  me  to  some  lady  who  has  seen  much  of  society,  and 
can  go  into  small  difficulties  with  her  own  sex  undis 
mayed." 

The  lawyer  reflected.  A  considerable  silence  ensued. 
At  length  he  said : 

"  Doctor,  I'll  just  call  down  my  wife's  only  sister.  She' 
has  seen  the  world,  is  yet  young  and  quick  in  her  sym 
pathies,  has  at  her  command  a  fund  of  the  soundest  sense, 
and  has  chosen  to  remain  unmarried." 


186  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

u  Magnificent !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  profoundly  de 
lighted.  "  Very  grand,  sir ;  introduce  me  at  once." 

In  a  few  moments  the  sisters  entered  the  lawyer's 
richly  carpeted  and  handsomely  furnished  home-study. 
Mrs.  Kuggleston  and  Miss  Phebe  Milton  were  presented 
to  the  polite  and  distinguished  physician.  The  ladies 
had  frequently  and  favorably  heard  very  much  of  Doctor 
La  Force  DuBois,  formerly  of  New-Orleans.  They  both 
cordially  and  attentively  listened  to  his  plans  to  detect 
the  causes  of  abortion  and  infanticide.  The  doctor  said  : 

"  Unexpectedly  I  yesterday  had  a  conversation  with 
a  city  physician,  named  William  Morte  ;  who  by  the 
merest  accident  I  have  since  ascertained  keeps  a  fostici- 
dal'boarding-house,  under  the  guise  of  a  '  Lying-in  Hospi 
tal.'  Furthermore,  he  has  been  during  the  past  three 
years  associated  in  business  with  a  certain  Madam  La 
Stelle,  residing  in  another  part  of  the  city,  who  gives  her 
entire  attention  to  obstetrical  cases  and  infanticides. 
Now,  ladies,  my  purpose  is,  if  possible,  to  obtain  from 
this  Madam  La  Stelle  a  confession  of  her  motives  for  en 
gaging  in  a  work  so  unnatural,  so  unwomanly,  and  so 
contrary  to  the  divine  laws  of  maternity." 

Miss  Phebe  Milton  very  promptly  said  that  the  plan 
by  which  so  remarkable  a  confession  could  be  obtained 
did  not  occur  to  her  mind.  But  she  was  certain  that  she 
was  ready  to  undertake  the  uncommon  task  for  the  sake 
of  society  and  the  advancement  of  science.  The  doctor 
immediately  assured  the  ladies  that  he  had  a  plan  which 
he  would  at  once  submit  to  Lawyer  Ruggleston.  At  this 
the  sisters  withdrew  ;  then  the  doctor  said : 

"Monsieur,  I  beg  you  to  explain,  fully  and  minutely, 
my  plan  to  your  wife  and  Miss  Milton." 

The  doctor's  scheme  involved  some  very  delicate  as 
sumptions,  and  the  most  perfect  self-possession  on  the 
part  of  Miss  Milton.  She  was  to  so  arrange  her  dress 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  187 

as  to  represent  to  the  eye  the  perfect  appearance  of  preg 
nancy.  She  was  to  profess  to  have  come  from  a  distant 
country  village,  and  in  quest  of  Madam  La  Stelle's  skill 
as  a  celebrated  physician  and  accoucheur.  Accepted,  she 
was  to  advance  liberally  and  often  on  the  fees  demanded, 
and  make  little  presents,  and  otherwise  gain  upon  the  best 
feelings  x>f  Madam,  until,  in  some  unguarded  moment  of 
pleasant  confidences  between  the  soon-to-be  patient  and 
the  reputed  abortionist,  a  few  agreeably  directed  ques 
tions  would  elicit  the  confession  so  earnestly  sought  by  the 
self-appointed  New- York  detective,  the  honest  and  phil 
anthropic  Doctor  La  Force*  Da  Bois. 

Lawyer  Ruggleston  listened  with  the  utmost  attention. 
He  promised  to  explain  to  his  wife  and  sister  the  entire 
programme.  "But,  doctor,  can  you  now  gvve  me  an 
idea  of  what  prompts  Madam  La  Stelle  to  persist  in  a 
practice  so  diabolical  and  heaven-defying  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  monsieur.  My  theoiy  is,  madam  has 
inherited  a  profound  sympathy  for  dependent  and  unfor 
tunate  females,  and  a  coi'respondingly  profound  antipathy, 
possibly  a  murderous  hatred,  for  infants  and  very  little 
children." 

A  provoking  smile  of  mirthful  incredulity  illuminated 
the  lawyer's  intelligent  countenance.  "Doctor,  allow 
me  to  ask,  are  you  not  the  child  of  fine-natured, 
charitable,  and  dreamy  parents  ?  Come  now,  doctor — 
just  take  a  little  of  your  own  medicine." 

The  two  gentlemen  then  shook  hands  warmly,  and,  in 
the  best  of  spirits,  separated. 


188  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

"  HE  will  be  saved,  and  yet  the  thought 
Lights  not  her  spirit's  dark  eclipse  ; 
No  fluttering  hopes  of  future  j  oy 

Flit  round  those  pale  and  parted  lips." 

Sybelle. 

THE  thirty-six  hours  succeeding  the  publication  of  the 
advertisement  for  an  "  assistant "  brought  the  doctor 
an  enormously  large  pile  of  letters  from  young  men  re 
siding  in  New-York — each  presenting  his  own  claims  in 
the  most  eloquent  language  at  his  command.  Only  one 
communication,  however,  attracted  the  doctor's  favor 
able  attention.  It  was  couched  in  these  straightforward 
terms : 

NEW-YORK,  February,  1838. 

SIR  :  I  am  a  young  man  about  eighteen  years  of  age.  Have 
had  a  glance  at  the  changing  scenes  of  life  in  cities,  on  lonely 
islands,  in  miserable  cabins,  and  on  ship-board.  Have  just  re 
turned  from  a  whaling  voyage  of  over  four  years. 

Sir,  a  black  cloud  of  gloom  hangs  threateningly  between  my 
eyes  and  all  future  prospects.  I  am  annoyed  with  wearisome  sen 
sations  and  with  terrible  suspicions  that  I  was  born  to  a  useless 
life.  I  have  no  fear  in  my  nature,  and  yet  I  can  not  drive  from  my 
thoughts  these  feelings  of  cheerlessness,  anxiety,  and  apprehension. 

Sir,  I  have  read  your  advertisement.  I  think  my  disposition  and 
talents,  under  the  guidance  of  a  generous  gentleman,  would  serve 
you  in  either  capacity.  My  address  is  at  my  boarding  place,  No.  17 
Bowling  Green,  city. 

With  respect,  yours,  etc. 

FRED.  WILSON. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Doctor  Du  Bois  was  before 
the  young  man.  He  was  a  quick,  intuitive  judge  of 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  189 

character.  He  therefore  took  with  great  swiftness  a 
complete  inventory  of  every  feature  and  lineament  in 
the  strange,  pale,  rather  handsome  face  of  the  tall,  fine 
ly-proportioned,  sailor-looking  correspondent.  He  pro 
posed,  however,  by  means  of  conversation,  to  draw  out 
testimony  which  would  make  him  thoroughly  acquaint 
ed  with  the  peculiarities  of  the  assistant,  in  case  they 
should  agree. 

"  Your  name  is  Fred  Wilson  ?  " 

"That's  the  name  I  had  given  me  by  a  sea-captain 
when  a  child." 

"  What  is  your  business  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  sir  ;  I  want  business." 

"  Did  you  ever  work  in  the  United  States  ?" 

"  Not  more  than  six  months." 

"Have  you  ever  been  a  member  of  any  organi 
zation  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  once  belonged  to  a  police  concern  for  the  de 
tection  of  frauds  and  thieves." 

"  What  kind  of  an  organization  was  that  ?  " 
Wilson  hesitated.      Then  he  finally  declined  to  an 
swer. 

The  doctor  noted  this,  but  went  on : 

"  Did  you  ever  detect  any  thieves  or  other  villains  ?  " 

With  much  warmth  of  feeling,  mingled  with  bitter 
ness  and  indignation,  Wilson  replied,  "  Yes,  sir,  I 
HAVE." 

"Do  you  know  a  criminal  when  you  meet  one?" 

Wilson  immediately  looked  very  pale.  But  with  a 
tone  of  determination  replied:  "Yes,  sir;  I  know  their 
personal  signs,  and  I  have  spotted  their  establish 
ments." 

"Are  you  known  in  the  city?" 

After  hesitating  and  pleasantly  smiling,  Wilson  said : 
"  When  I  left  New- York,  over  four  years  ago,  I  was  a 
mere  spindling  lad.  Since,  I  have  grown  much  heavier 


190  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

and  some  taller ;   and  my  general  appearance  is  so  much 
changed  that  now  I  hardly  know  myself." 

"  Where  are  your  friends  ?  " 

Wilson  suddenly  looked  very  sad,  and  seemingly  some 
what  surprised.  "  Sir,"  he  replied,  with  emotions  of  sor 
row  trembling  in  his  tone, "  sir, I  am  without  relatives.  My 
friends  are  free-hearted  sailors  floating  on  different  ships 
around  the  world.  In  this  city  I  am  without  friends  and 
in  need  of  employment;  otherwise,  sir,  I  should  not  have 
answered  your  advertisement." 

Doctor  Du  Bois  was  immensely  pleased.  He  whis 
pered  to  the  young  man  to  step  a  little  to  one  side,  so 
that  their  conversation  could  not  possibly  be  overheard 
by  men  in  the  bar-room.  Then  the  physician  explained 
fully  why  he  required  an  assistant  in  the  difficult  work  he 
had  cut  out  for  himself  in  New- York.  With  the  utmost 
particularity  he  delineated  the  precise  character  of  his 
investigations  into  the  causes  of  crime.  He  also  explained 
the  benevolence  of  motives  and  kindly  humane  feelings 
demanded  in  a  person  with  such  an  object  in  view. 

Fred  Wilson's  large,  dark,  serious  eyes  expanded  and 
blazed  with  delight  as  the  doctor  proceeded.  "  Sir," 
said  he  warmly,  "  your  plan  fits  my  disposition  exactly  ; 
now,"  added  the  naturally  prepossessing  and  elegantly- 
mannered  young  man,  "  now,  if  my  capacity  can  keep 
alongside  of  my  disposition,  and  not  drop  astern,  or 
veer  to  the  windward  when  under  pressure,  then,  sir, 
we  shall  make  good  heading  in  this  business." 

Doctor  Du  Bois  suddenly  grasped  young  Wilson's  hand, 
and  like  old  acquaintances  they  greeted  each  other  with 
hearty  shakings  and  expressions  of  friendship.  French 
man  had  met  Frenchman.  Every  action  was  graceful,  and 
every  movement  elegant ;  both  naturally  vivacious,  re 
fined  in  manners,  and  polished  in  conversation  ;  each  to 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  191 

the  other  indicating  a  parentage  of  no  ordinary  fami 
lies. 

That  very  night,  young  Wilson  paid  his  bill  at  the 
sailors'  lodging-house,  and  commenced  a  new  and  difficult 
career  at  the  Carleton  Hotel,  in  the  employment  and 
confidence  of  the  new  detective. 

Thus,  by  the  working  of  providential  forces  through 
the  play  of  circumstances,  the  strait  gate  and  the  very 
narrow  Avay  were,  for  the  first  time,  presented  to  the 
motherless  and  homeless  wanderer. 

Will  he  enter  in  at  "  the  strait  gate  "  ?  And  will 
he  walk  day  by  day  and  year  after  year  in  "  the  narrow 
path  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  SHE  thinks  that  on  her  pallid  cheek 
No  love-born  tints  shall  ever  rise." — Nydia. 

CAPTAIN  NELSON  is  now  the  most  dangerous  man  in 
New-York.  He  seems  like  a  monstrous  demon  of  wicked 
ness  bent  on  the  destruction  of  the  good  and  the  beauti 
ful.  His  hatred  of  woman  is  even  more  diabolical  and 
fatal  than  his  murderous  contempt  for  man.  That  mer 
ciless  hate  lies  coiled  up  and  always  hidden  like  a  crafty 
snake  within  his  agreeable  deportment  and  bold  and  vi 
gorous  intellect.  Since  his  rejection  by  the  carefully 
educated  and  beautiful  Nell  Palfry,  who  now  scorns  all 
men  and  bitterly  defies  them,  he  is  becoming  more 
desperate  and  reckless,  and  declares  by  his  acts  a  total 
indifference  to  life.  He  is  becoming  less  and  less  guard 
ed  in  his  movements. 


192  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

So  long  as  mothers  and  daughters  shall  exist  in  this 
world,  such  disclosures  as  appear  in  these  pages  can  not 
be  useless.  Not  less  are  these  fearful  scenes  important 
to  fathers  and  sons.  Because,  if  to  be  forewarned  is  to  be 
forearmed,  these  horrible  and  truthful  pictures  of  the 
causes  of  crime,  and  these  delineations  of  the  ways  of 
professional  criminals,  will  serve  as  beacon-lights  and 
guide-boards  by  which  maidenhood  and  manhood  can 
escape  evil  and  choose  the  good. 

The  summery  luxuriance  of  a  day  in  June  is  beautiful 
and  golden  both  in  city  and  country.  Church-going  cit 
izens  and  sight-seeing  strangers  are  walking  in  every  di 
rection.  Sorrowful  faces  pass  bright  faces ;  hateful  eyes 
look  into  loving  eyes ;  jealous  hearts,  throbbing  and 
curdling  with  bitterness,  go  by  generous  hearts  beating 
with  love  and  universal  good-will.  Every  face  is  unknown 
to  every  other ;  all,  all,  in  a  great  metropolis  are  utter 
strangers.  And  then,  soon  after  the  meeting  hour  on 
a  Sunday  morning  the  streets  look  almost  deserted. 

A  young  lady  who  is  a  celebrated  beauty,  and  a  uni 
versal  favorite,  and  who  is  engaged  every  business  day 
as  selling  clerk  in  a  popular  down-town  store,  left  her 
home  and  her  mother  about  the  church-going  hour,  ex 
pressing  her  intention  of  spending  the  day  with  an  aunt 
in  the  vicinity. 

After  leaving  her  mother's  residence,  she  walked 
rapidly  for  a  considerable  distance ;  then  she  threw  a 
thick  vail  over  her  face,  and  quickly  rearranged  her 
shawl,  so  that  she  could  not  be  recognized.  She  further 
shielded  her  beautiful  face  from  observation  by  wearing 
her  parasol  very  close  down,  as  if  suffering  from  weak  eyes, 
to  which  the  bright  June  sunlight  was  particularly  pain 
ful. 

Unobserved  by  any  one  she  entered  the   consulting 


TREES  OP  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  193 

room  of  Doctor  Mortc  in  Hudstni  street.  The  sharp, 
heartless  eye  of  the  assistant  who  answered  the  name  of 
"  student  "  immediately  recognized  the  wretched  girl. 
With  the  nonchalance  and  cool  impudence  of  one  long 
accustomed  to  crime,  he  said  : 

"  So,  so ;  come  again,  eh  ?  About  three  years  and  a 
half  ago,  I'm  thinking,  you  disappeared  from  this  hospi 
tal  with  your  life,  and  in  fair  health;  didn't  you,  Miss 
Molly  Ruciel?" 

The  unhappy  creature,  being  suddenly  subject  to  this 
familiar  and  contemptuous  language,  was  too  intensely 
annoyed  and  too  profoundly  mortified  to  speak. 

Student  withdrew,  however,  and  the  doctor  himself 
appeared.  "Oho  !"  he  ejaculated,  "Oho  !  The  pretty 
store-girl  come  again,  eh  ?  " 

Her  unspeakable  mortification  and  her  bitter  anguish 
stifled  and  benumbed  her  heart  through  and  through. 

"  Come  for  treatment,  I  suspect  ?  "  said  the  fiendish 
doctor. 

"  Please,  sir,  let  me  speak  with  Mrs.  Morte,"  replied 
the  terrified  girl. 

"  Can't  see  her  to-day,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  heartless 
abruptness.  Then  he  added  with  brusque  impatience 
and  business-like  energy,  "Don't  trouble  yourself,  Miss 
Molly.  Your  wealthy  lover,  the  gallant  Jack  Blake, 
has  been  here.  It's  all  fixed.  The  handsome  villain 
paid  all  fees  and  left  full  instructions.  He  says  that 
you're  a  candidate  for  '  still  and  lost '  treatment,  and  he 
footed  the  bill  accordingly." 

" Still — and — lost — treatment!"  echoed  she, in  a  tone 
of  inexpressible  terror  and  despair.  And  again,  very 
slowly  and  very  much  appalled,  she  murmured,  "  Still 
— and — lost — treatment !  " 

"By  God,  Miss  Molly  Ruciel,  you  mutter  like  a  pret 
ty  she-devil,  half-drunk." 


194:  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

For  a  moment  her  face  reddened  and  burned  with  the 
•womanly  fire  that  was  not  yet  extinguished  on  the  altar 
of  her  heart.  "  Perhaps  I'm  a  senseless  thing,"  she  said, 
with  deep  sadness  and  humiliation,  "  but  your  language 
frightens  me  almost  to  death." 

"  Oho  !  oho  !  you're  suffering  death  agonies,  are  you, 
Miss  Molly  ?  And  all  because  you  don't  understand 
the  regulations  of  my  poorly-furnished  but  heavily 
curtained  hospital,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  you  for  treatment,"  said  she,  timidly 
and  modestly :  "  but  I  do  not  receive  the  meaning  of  your 
mysterious  language." 

"  Well,  come  now,  you  half-crazy  and  half-drunken 
thing — just  you  keep  still  and  just  you  hark  a  minute. 
I'll  make  it  all  straight  and  square,  clear  as  four  panes  of 
window-glass." 

The  miserable  and  frightened  girl  listened.  He  said  : 
"  Thei'e  is  nothing  unfathomable  in  my  business.  I  have 
two  departments  for  two  classes  of  patients,  with  two 
signs  and  two  very  different  prices.  Before  Madam  La 
Stelle  went  into  business  with  me — you  know  where  her 
flourishing  hospital  is,  don't  you  ?  —  I  accepted  and 
treated  both  classes  of  patients  myself;  but  there  was 
a  devilish  sight  too  much  business  for  me,  so  I  looked 
about  and  found  a  keen,  cruel,  restless  woman  to  take 
all  the  'live  and  found'  classes;  for,  to  tell  the  whole 
truth,  Molly,  these  cases  multiplied  ten  to  one  over  the 
applicants  for '  still  and  lost '  treatment ;  and  all  because, 
as  I  suspect,  about  nine  out  of  every  ten  girls  and  youngish 
women  who  get  into  this  devilish  difficulty  would  rather 
have  some  kind  of  homes  or  live  places  found  for  their 
kicking  and  crying  brats.  They  think  it's  awful  and 
very  dreadful,  and  so  on,  to  hurry  up  death  on  their  damn 
young  ones.  But  you,  Miss  Molly,  you  are  provided  for 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  195 

by  that  jolly  rich  fellow,  Jack  Blake.  He  squarely 
planked  do\vn  my  fees,  and  said  he : 

" '  Doctor  Morte,  this  thing  is  all  damnably  wrong. 
But  that  girl  isn't  to  be  cursed  with  a  crying  baby,  you 
understand,  don't  you,  doctor  ?  Still  and  lost  is  what  I 
pay  foi',  you  understand.'  Then  Blake  disappeared.  I 
guess  he's  about  as  far  out  of  New-York  as  a  ship  bound 
for  Texas  can  carry  him  in  ten  June  days." 

Poor  girl !  Who  loves  her  now  ?  Who  can  rescue 
her  from  the  crumbling  walls  ?  Who  snatch  her  from 
the  devouring  fire  of  crime  ?  Alas  !  he  who  loves  her, 
and  whom  she  loves  with  her  deepest  heart,  a  true  and 
honest  young  gentleman  in  the  city,  knows  nothing  of 
her  condition  or  situation. 

Doctor  Morte  leads  her  to  the  unclean,  wretched  den 
where  his  crimes  are  committed.  It  is  a  back  room  on 
the  second  floor.  A  leprous  moisture  oozes  from  the 
walls  and  ceiling.  Heavy  curtains,  fetid  with  filth,  and 
covered  with  last  year's  spiders'  webs,  shut  out  the  gold 
en  summer  Sunday  light  of  June.  On  the  mantel,  over 
the  fireplace,  were  dirty  plates  and  besmeared  cups  and 
saucers.  An  infectious,  sickening  atmosphere  filled  the 
room  and  almost  suffocated  the  wretched  patient. 

O  mothers !  save  your  innocent  daughters  from  a  fate 
like  this  ;  and  O  daughters  !  behold  one  of  your  sisters 
treading  the  black  path  to  the  tomb.  Pity  her  !  Save 
her! 


196  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"  Our,  out  are  the  lights — out  all ! 

And  over  her  quivering  form 
The  curtain,  a  funeral  pall, 

Comes  down  with  the  rush  of  a  storm." 

Foe's  Legina. 

Miss  MAKY  RUCIEL  was  appalled  beyond  expression. 
Rather  than  be  subjected  to  such  horrible  treatment,  she 
would  depart  and  drown  herself  in  the  river.  She  burst 
into  tears.  She  begged  to  be  permitted  to  leave  the  hos 
pital  immediately. 

Firmly  and  savagely  the  doctor  informed  her  that  she 
was  bound  to  go  through  the  operation  for  which  Blake 
had  paid  him  a  large  fee.  He  was  cruel  and  implacable 
in  his  ferocious  profession.  Seeing  that  her  escape  from 
his  medical  prison  was  impossible,  she  begged,  implored 
him  to  supply  her  with  pen,  ink,  and  paper.  He  brought 
writing  materials  immediately,  and  she,  with  a  heart 
bowed  down  with  sorrow  and  misery,  and  her  naturally 
sweet  face  haggard  with  horror,  wrote  the  following 
letter  : 

LYING-IN  HOSPITAL,  New- York,  June  18, 1838. 
MY  DEAEEST  MOTHER  :  Oh !  do  not  desert  your  poor  desolate 
daughter  in  her  bitter  affliction. ...  I  can  not  tell  you  in  language 
how  deeply  I  have  been  wronged,  and  how  deeply  I  have  wronged 
others.  .  .  .  Oh  !  do  not  ask  who  has  deceived  me.  I  believed  him 
sincere  in  all  his  promises.  I  relied  upon  his  word.  I  drank  until 
my  senses  were  lost ;  then  my  fears  and  all  my  resolutions  left  me 

forever ! O  dearest  mother !  I  need  not  ask  you  to  deliver  a 

message,  my  dying  farewell,  to  my  poor  dear I  know  you 

will  see  him. — 0,  mother !  he  has  never  deceived  me.  Amid  grief 
and  loneliness  of  feeling,  when  I  seemed  the  happiest,  he  was  my 
true  lover  and  my  ministering  angel O  mother,  dearest, 


TREES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  197 

I  am  glad  that  death  is  so  near I  may  not  survive  this  wicked 

treatment ;  and,  if  I  should  survive  it,  mother,  I  am  not  worthy  of 

Ms  pure  /and  holy  love  and  devotion My  pride  and  my  hope, 

my  self-respect  and  ambition,  are  all  gone,  dearest  mother  ;  and  I 
do  not  want  to  outlive  the  fruit  of  my  temptation  and  transgres 
sion My  poor  desolate,  darling  mother! — and  my  best  friend, 

my  only  true  lover  ! — farewell !  forever  farewell !  .  .  .  from  your 
own  MARY  RUCIEL. 

The  wretched  and  despairing  girl  folded  her  letter, 
sealed  and  addressed  it,  and  left  it  lying  in  plain  sight 
upon  the  filthy  table.  Weary  with  suffering,  and  half 
prostrated  with  the  pestilential  atmosphere  of  the  moun 
tebank's  den,  she  dropped  upon  the  unclean  straw  bed, 
and  bitterly  wept  the  scalding  tears  of  humiliation,  deso 
lation,  and  repentance. 


"  Damn  bad  luck,  this  hitch !  "  growled  the  villainous 
Doctor  Morte,  as  he  let  the  pulseless  wrist  of  the  beauti 
ful  girl  drop  from  between  his  fingers.  "  Fact  is,"  he 
went  on  to  say,  "  the  girl  was  in  a  devilish  bad  temper. 
Wasn't  fit  to  stand  an  operation  for  '  still  and  lost.' " 

The  student  looked  rather  agitated,  and  was  evidently 
alarmed.  "  Every  body  in  New- York  knows  that  girl," 
said  he.  "We've  got  a  hell  of  a  job  on  hand,  I'll  bet." 

"  Hush,  you  cowardly  rascal !  "  replied  the  doctor 
with  angry  impatience. 

"  Well,  then — -just  tell  what's  t.o  be  done." 

Morte  went  hastily  to  the  street  door  and  looked  out. 
It  was  already  dusk  ;  a  storm  had  set  in ;  and  it  was  then 
raining  abundantly.  He  hurried  back  to  his  grim  stu 
dent,  and  said,  authoritatively,  "  Porgy  Jo !  Come,  stir 
about,  get  an  umbrella,  put  on  your  slouch  hat  and  my 
military  jacket.  Hurry  to  our  hack-driver.  Send  him 
around  immediately.  Then  find  Sergeant  Vim.  Don't 
whisper  a  word  that  any  one  can  overhear.  Bring  Vim 


198  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

right  around ;  and  doii't  forget  his  blanket  and  a  few 
wrist-cords." 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  hackman  drove  up  in  the 
heavy  rain,  tied  his  horses,  and  hurried  into  the  doctor's 
consulting  room. 

"Another  passenger?"  asked  the  murderous-looking 
driver. 

"  Lovely  patient,"  replied  the  doctor,  with  some  show 
of  regret  in  his  voice. 

Then  both  kept  perfectly  still,  in  the  almost  totally 
dark  room  ;  for  only  a  dim  taper  was  burning  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs.  Presently  the  student,  now  called  "  Porgy 
Jo,"  and  Captain  Nelson,  now  called  "Sergeant  Vim," 
entered,  and  the  four  villains  proceeded  up  stairs  to  look 
after  the  lifeless  passenger. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  Nelson, "  Molly  Ruciel,  the  love, 
ly  young  girl,  a  storekeeper  down  town — she !  " 

Doctor  Morte  suddenly  slapped  his  hand  over  the  cap 
tain's  mouth,  and,  in  a  low  tone,  admonished  him  to 
work  fast  and  keep  silent. 

They  consulted  together,  and  soon  arrived  at  a  pro 
gramme.  "  This  passenger,"  said  the  captain, "  must  be 
put  into  a  carriage  and  driven  to  my  sail-boat." 

"  Where's  that  ?"  asked  the  attentive  hackman. 

"  One  mile  this  side  the  first  turn  in  old  distillery 
road  on  the  Hudson  river.  You  know,  don't  you  ?  Creep 
along  down  on  the  west  from  Murray  Hill ;  then  strike 
north,  till  you're  opposite  Hoboken ;  then  turn  down 
that  road,  and  steer  for  the  brick-yard  close  by  the  riv 
er.  Old  Von  Twiller  drives  his  cows  down  that  lane  to 
let  'em  drink  river-water.  At  the  foot  of  that  lane  my 
sail-boat  is  chained  and  locked.  Now,  old  hawk  !  don't 
you  see  your  road  ?  " 

The  old  vulture-looking  driver  said,   "  All  square,  cap- 


TKEES   OF   CRIME   IN   FULL   BLOSSOM.  199 

tain ;  that's  plain  enough  ;  but  it's  a  hell  of  a  road  this 
stormy  night." 

With  this  understanding  they  set  about  preparing  the 
corpse  for  the  long  ride.  They  worked  as  systematically 
and  as  deliberately  as  butchers  in  a  barn,  or  as  profes 
sional  surgeons  in  an  army  hospital,  where  blood  and 
death  are  familiar  objects,  and  where  scenes  of  horror 
and  suffering  cease  to  excite  emotions  of  sympathy  or 
terror. 

"  This  passenger  will  put  all  New-York  in  a  thunder 
ing  quiver  of  excitement,"  said  Captain  Nelson.  "She 
must  be  found  floating  with  every  imaginable  evidence 
of  violence  committed  by  several  men." 

They  examined  her  body.  Her  back  was  already  chafed 
by  resisting  the  medical  operations.  There  were  suffi 
cient  marks  of  cruelty  on  both  her  wrists,  the  effects  of 
the  cords  with  which  Doctor  Morte  had  bound  her  dur 
ing  the  treatment.  Then  the  captain  tore  her  dress  and 
frock  in  divers  places.  With  a  strip  thus  torn  from  her 
clothing  they  tied  up  her  under  jaw,  bringing  the  band 
over  the  head,  and  carrying  it  once  around  her  throat, 
where  they  secured  it.  Then,  to  prevent  the  possibility  of 
her  mouth  or  throat  making  any  noise,  by  the  sudden 
escapement  of  confined  air  from  the  lungs  or  bronchial 
tubes,  which  sound  might  endanger  the  undertaking, 
they  tied  a  strip  of  linen  tightly  around  her  neck.  Then 
they  put  her  bonnet  on  her  head,  dressed  her  with  every 
thing  she  had  worn  into  the  hospital,  wrapped  her  up, 
like  a  sick  lady,  in  a  thick  woolen  blanket,  and  between 
them  carried  her  out  through  the  rain,  and  in  a  sitting 
posture  placed  her  rigid  body  on  the  back  seat  of  the 
carriage. 

Captain  Nelson,  alias  Sergeant  Vim,  immediately  has 
tened  back  to  the  room  to  cover  up  tracks.  He  burnt 
up  the  poor  girl's  letter.  Gathering  together  the  pieces 


200  TALE   OF  A    PHYSICIAN. 

of  skirts,  the  handkerchief,  the  strips  of  muslin  and  lace 
torn  out  of  her  garments,  the  parasol,  and  every  little 
fragment  belonging  to  the  patient's  habiliments — mean 
time  taking  every  thing  valuable  from  her  dress  and  out 
of  her  pockets — then  the  captain,  addressing  himself  to 
young  Porgy  Jo,  said : 

"  Take  thfese  things  with  you  across  the  Hudson  in  your 
own  row-boat.  Anchor  above  Weehawken,  out  of  sight 
of  every  body.  Go  into  some  thicket,  a  very  short  dis 
tance  from  the  shore,  and  scatter  these  things  about  on 
the  stones  and  bushes ;  and  don't  knock  off  work,  Jo, 
until  you've  raised  a  hell  of  a  scrape  by  breaking  down 
twigs,  trampling  the  grass,  and  fussing  up  the  ground 
all  around  there  generally.  Do  work  enough  on  the 
bushes  to  make  five  men  sweat  like  this  lucky  rain-storm. 
And  then,  Jo,"  said  the  captain,  lowering  his  voice  to  a 
husk  whisper,  "just  you  take  the  bag  you  carried  the 
stuff  in,  put  in  half  a  dozen  stones  of  some  heft,  and 
drag  the  load  from  where  you  scattered  the  rags  through 
the  woods  to  your  boat.  Make  the  ground  look  as 
though  some  men  had  dragged  the  girl's  body  through 
it.  Then  heave  out  the  stones,  take  your  bag,  and  pad 
dle  for  the  hospital.  Keep  your  eye  out,  Porgy !  For 
get  nothing.  I'll  superintend  the  other  branch  of  this 
transaction." 

Thus,  without  exchanging  another  word,  but  in  steal 
thy  stillness,  and  in  that  storm  and  deep  darkness  which 
evil-doers  love,  the  assassins  and  transgressors  separated  : 
Porgy  Jo  to  his  small  row-boat — which  he  invariably 
kept  ready  for  exactly  such  jobs,  for  passengers — just  in 
the  pier,  at  the  foot  of  the  street ;  and  Sergeant  Vim,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  reckless  and  the  fearless,  to  his  ride 
by  the  side  of  the  sitting  corpse  of  the  lovely  girl,  which 
was  destined  for  a  grave  in  the  Hudson  river. 


TREES   OF   CKIME   IN   FULL  BLOSSOM.  201 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  LOVE,  strong  with  hopeless  energy, 
And  pure  from  passion's  earthly  stain, 
Yet  human  all  in  its  sweet  power, 
O'ermasters  mortal  fear  and  pain." — Ibid. 

As  was  predicted  by  Captain  Nelson,  the  finding  of 
the  corpse  of  Mary  Ruciel  floating  in  the  North  River, 
about  four  days  after  he  had  thrown  it  from  his  sail-boat, 
convulsed  the  great  city  of  New-York  with  a  profound 
and  intense  excitement.  The  momentous  political  ques 
tions  of  the  day  were  temporarily  neglected.  Numerous 
arrests  were  made,  and  a  large  number  of  persons  exam 
ined,  but  no  clue  could  be  obtained  to  the  perpetrators. 
Tempting  rewards  were  offered,  beginning  with,one  thou- 
'sand  and  ending  with  thirty  thousand  dollars,  accompa 
nied  with  official  promise  of  pardon  to  any  accomplice 
who  would  come  forward  and  testify ;  yet  no  tracks  of 
the  atrocious  criminals  could  be  found,  and  the4  mys 
tery  of  the  murder,  taking  the  sudden  and  unaccountable 
disappearance  of  the  victim  from  home  into  the  account, 
greatly  increased  the  popular  excitement. 

Amid  all  this  public  anxiety  and  discussion,  Doctor  Du 
Bois  called  at  the  office  of  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 

"  Doctor, "  the  legal  gentleman  at  once  began,  "  what 
advancement  do  you  achieve  in  the  detective  business  ? 
Have  you  given  any  attention  to  this  last  instance  of 
diabolical  murder  ?  " 

"  Monsieur  Ruggleston,  you  will  do  me  the  honor  to 
believe  that  I  am  in  search  of  truth  instead  of  assassins 
and  highway  murderers." 
9* 


202  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Why,  then,  did  you  enter  yourself  as  a  detective,  and 
advertise  for  an  assistant  ?  " 

"  Ah  sir !  my  purpose  is  to  detect  the  causes  of  crime^ 
with  a  view  to  a  demonstration,  on  phrenological  and 
psychological  principles,  of  the  correct  social  treatment 
and  final  cure,  if  not  prevention,  of  the  evils  which  afflict 
our  disordered  humanity." 

"  Doctor,"  replied  the  lawyer,  somewhat  impatiently, 
"  your  theory  is  preeminently  impractical." 

"Ah  monsieur  !  as  to  that,  I  prefer  to  let  the  future 
developments  of  my  present  inquiries  become  my  advo 
cate." 

"Now,  doctor,  about  this  infernal  murder  of  an  inno 
cent  girl.  What  have  you  to  suggest?  " 

"  A  far-sighted  judgment,  not  to  mention  faculties 
adapted  to  the  closest  analysis,  can  only  fathom  the 
causes  of  such  a  murder.  But,  Monsieur  Ruggleston, 
since  you  honor  me  with  your  question,  I  beg  to  suggest 
that  the  murder  was  committed  by  a  person, 

"1.  Who  has  inherited  a  hatred  for  both  man  and 
woman ; 

"  2.  Who  has  inherited  an  uncontrollable  passion  for 
the  possession  of  riches  ; 

"  3.  Who  has  inherited  a  passion  for  controlling  the 
feelings  and  governing  the  conduct  of  others  j 

"4.  Who  has  inherited  remarkable  intellectual  and 
executive  abilities ; 

"5.  Who  has  inherited  a  retentive  memory,  intense 
bitterness  of  feeling  toward  individuals  indiscriminately, 
sarcasm,  misanthropy,  and  a  reckless  disregard  of  his 
own  life ; 

"  6.  Who  never  experienced  the  benefits  of  an  afiec- 
tionate  mother  or  an  agreeable  home ; 

"  7.  Who  never  sincerely  loved  any  human  being,  and 


TEEES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  203 

who,  consequently,  was  never  loved  by  any  human 
being." 

Lawyer  Ruggleston  respectfully  heard  the  doctor 
through,  and  then  asked  :  "  State,  if  you  please,  whether 
or  not  you  deem  the  seven  postulates  you  have  just  ut 
tered  a  true  and  reliable  prescription  by  which  to  detect 
a  constitutional  murderer  ?" 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  the  doctor,  "  to  those  who  know 
any  thing  of  physiology  and  physiognomy,  and  who 
possess  even  a  few  facts  concerning  the  transmission  of 
states  of  feeling  and  qualities  of  mind  from  parents  to 
offspring,  it  is  wholly  unnecessary  to  affirm  that  my  seven 
propositions  are  scientific  and  reliable." 

"  Doctor  Du  Bois,"  resumed  Mr.  Ruggleston,  "  how  in 
heaven's  name  am  I  to  make  practical  and  legal  these 
scientific  abstractions  of  yours  ?" 

"  Time,  monsieur,  time  will  bring  these  views  into 
harmony  with  Bacon,  Blackstone,  Coke,  Littleton,  and 
your  other  most  distinguished  authorities." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  energetic  lawyer,  "  Fly  swifter 
round,  ye  wheels  of  time,  and  bring  the  welcome  day." 
Then  he  asked,  "  Can  a  professional  murderer  be  also 
an  agreeable,  polite,  influential  character  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  quickly  replied  the  doctor ;  "  for  ex 
ample,  recall  the  names  and  manners  of  celebrated  mili 
tary  generals.  They,  sir,  WQI-Q  professional  destroyers  of 
human  life." 

"  That  answer  is  not  in  point,  doctor." 

"  Pardon,  monsieur,  if  I  insist  that  my  reply  is  most 
pertinent." 

"A  military  general  is  not  a  professional  murderer." 

"  What,  then,  can  we  denominate  his  profession  ? 
And  what  is  the  profession  of  the  executioner  ?  What 
the  calling  of  those  who  concoct  wars  and  discipline 
armies  ?  And  what  the  business  of  those  who  lead  their 


204:  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

fellow-men  in  formidable  battalions  against  the  people  of 
another  kingdom  or  nation  ?  " 

"  Ah  doctor ! "  interrupted  the  lawyer,  "  you  do  not 
answer  my  interrogatory :  Can  a  murderer  be  an  incon 
sistent  character,  exhibiting  a  mixture  of  good  and  evil 
qualities  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly,  monsieur.  By  imparting  their  own 
depraved  feelings  and  predominating  thoughts,  which 
they  may  never  have  clothed  in  language  and  exhibited 
in  character,  parents  can  beget,  in  their  ignorance  and 
innocence,  girls  and  boys  who  possess  powerfully  sensual 
and  actively  murderous  propensities." 

"  Now,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer  facetiously,  "  can  you 
of  your  own  personal  knowledge,  and  from  your  own 
investigations  into  the  laws  and  facts  of  parentage,  affirm 
your  last  statement  to  be  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth,  so  help  you  God  ?  " 

"  It  is  all  unquestionably  true,"  gravely  replied  Doctor 
Du  Bois.  "  And  as  to  contradiction  in  inherited  char 
acter,  take  for  an  example  the  celebrated  Russian  auto 
crat,  Peter  the  Great,  of  whom  the  faithful  historian  says  : 
'  His  stately  form,  his  intellectual  forehead,  his  piercing 
black  eyes,  his  Tartar  nose  and  mouth,  his  gracious  smile, 
his  frown,  black  with  all  the  stormy  rage  and  hate  of  a 
barbarian  tyrant,  and,  above  all,  a  strange  nervous  con 
vulsion,  which  sometimes  transformed  his  countenance, 
during  a  few  moments,  into  an  object  on  which  it  was 
impossible  to  look  without  terror.  The  immense  quanti 
ties  of  meat  which  he  devoured ;  the  pints  of  brandy 
which  he  swallowed,  and  which,  it  was  said,  he  had  care 
fully  distilled  with  his  own  hand  ;  the  fool  who  jabbered 
at  his  feet ;  the  monkey  which  grinned  at  the  back  of  his 
chair,  were,  during  some  weeks,  popular  topics  of  con 
versation.  With  all  the  high  qualities  which  were  pecu 
liar  to  himself,  he  had  all  the  filthy  habits  which  were 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.     205 

then  common  among  his  countrymen.  To  the  end  of  his 
life,  while  disciplining  armies,  founding  schools,  framing 
codes,  organizing  tribunals,  building  cities  in  deserts, 
joining  distant  seas  by  artificial  rivers,  he  lived  in  his 
palace  like  a  hog  in  a  sty ;  and  when  he  was  entertained 
by  other  sovereigns,  never  failed  to  leave  on  the  tapes 
tried  walls  and  velvet  state  beds  unequivocal  proofs  that 
a  savage  had  been  there." ' 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"  WHO  may  understand 
Thy  many  woes  poor  suicide  unknown  ? 
He  who  thy  being  gave  shall  judge  of  thee  alone." 

Campbell. 

• 

A  NUMBER  of  gentlemen  at  this  moment  entered  the 
office  on  legal  business.  The  interesting  conversation 
between  the  physician  and  Mr.  Ruggleston  was  therefore 
for  a  few  moments  suspended.  Resuming,  however,  the 
doctor  said  : 

"For  many  days  I  have  been  pondering  the  case  of  the 
poor  sailor  McRiggy,  who  was  tried  and  executed  for 
the  murder  of  the  spinster  Miss  Bridgston." 

"  Well,  what  of  that  case  ?  There  was  over  it  noth 
ing  like  the  popular  excitement  that  now  stirs  this  great 
metropolis." 

"  Ah  sir !  unhappily  the  people  trample  on  justice 
when  their  fears  or  passions  are  excited." 

"  Of  McRiggy,  doctor,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

"  I  say,  monsieur,  that  he  was  condemned  upon  in 
sufficient  evidence." 

"  In  what  part  of  the  testimony  do  you  regard  it  as 
defective  or  insufficient  ?  " 


206  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

"  In  that  part  where  the  officers  failed  to  find  any  coat 
or  other  garment  belonging  to  the  sailor  from  which  the 
button,  with  the  strip  of  cloth  attached,  was  torn  by  the 
victim  at  the  moment  of  the  murder." 

"  True,  doctor.  But,  then,  you  know  nothing  could 
be  easier  than  the  destruction  of  that  particular  garment 
by  McRiggy." 

"  My  mind  is  not  satisfied,  Monsieur  Ruggleston." 

"  Can  you,  sir,  procure  for  me  that  button  and  strip  of 
cloth?" 

In  a  few  days  the  lawyer  said  he  would  call  at  police 
headquarters  and  obtain  it  for  Dr.  Du  Bois. 

"  Only  yesterday,"  continued  the  doctor,  "  I  was  read 
ing  English  cases  of  circumstantial  evidence,  and  the 
idea  struck  me  that  the  case  of  McRiggy  might  be  one 
of  this  nature." 

Then,  taking  from  his  pocket  a  printed  account  illus 
trative  of  his  thought,  and  begging  the  lawyer's  atten 
tion,  which  that  gentleman  at  once  most  cheerfully 
accorded,  he  read  an  illustration  : 

"  Jonathan  Bradford  kept  an  inn,  in  Oxfordshire,  on 
the  London  road  to  Oxford,  in  the  year  1736.  He  bore 
an  unexceptionable  character.  Mr.  Hayes,  a  gentleman 
of  fortune,  being  on  his  way  to  Oxford,  on  a  visit  to  a 
relation,  put  up  at  Bradford's ;  he  there  joined  company 
with  two  gentlemen,  with  whom  he  supped,  and  in  con 
versation  unguardedly  mentioned  that  he  had  then  about 
him  a  large  sum  of  money.  In  due  time  they  retired  to 
their  respective  chambers  ;  the  gentlemen  to  a  two-bed 
ded  room,  leaving,  as  is  customary  with  many,  a  candle 
burning  in  the  chimney-corner.  Some  hours  after  they 
were  in  bed,  one  of  the  gentlemen,  being  awake,  thought 
he  heard  a  deep  groan  in  the  adjoining  chamber,  and 
this  being  repeated,  he  softly  awoke  his  friend.  They 
listened  together,  and  the  groans  increasing  as  of  one 


TREES  OF   CRIME  IN"  FULL  BLOSSOM.  207 

dying,  they  both  instantly  arose,  and  proceeded  silently 
to  the  door  of  the  next  chamber,  from  whence  they 
heard  the  groans ;  and  the  door  being  ajar,  saw  a  light 
in  the  room  ;  they  entered,  but  it  is  impossible  to  paint 
their  consternation,  on  perceiving  a  person  weltering  in 
his  blood  in  the  bed,  and  a  man  standing  over  him,  with 
a  dark  lantern  in  one  hand  and  a  knife  in  the  other. 
The  man  seemed  as  petrified  as  themselves,  but  the  ter 
ror  carried  with  it  all  the  terror  of  guilt !  The  gentle 
men  soon  discovered  the  person  was  the  stranger  with 
whom  they  had  that  night  supped,  and  that  the  man  who 
was  standing  over  him  was  their  host.  They  seized  Brad 
ford  directly,  disarmed  him  of  his  knife,  and  charged 
him  with  being  the  murderer ;  he  assumed  by  this  time 
the  air  of  innocence,  positively  denied  the  crime,  and  as 
serted  that  he  came  there  with  the  same  humane  inten 
tions  as  themselves ;  for  that,  hearing  a  noise,  which  was 
succeeded  by  a  groaning,  he  got  out  of  bed,  struck  a 
light,  armed  himself  with  a  knife  for  his  defence,  and 
had  but  that  minute  entered  the  room  before  them. 

"  These  assertions  were  of  little  avail ;  he  was  kept  in 
close  custody  till  the  morning,  and  then  taken  before  a 
neighboring  justice  of  the  peace.  Bradford  still  de 
nied  the  murder,  but  nevertheless  with  such  an  apparent 
indication  of  guilt,  that  the  justice  hesitated  not  to  make 
use  of  this  extraordinary  expression,  on  writing  out  his 
mittimus,  *  Mr.  Bradford,  either  you  or  myself  commit, 
ted  this  murder.' 

"  This  extraordinary  affair  was  the  conversation  of 
the  whole  county.  Bradford  was  tried  and  condemned 
over  and  over  again,  in  every  company.  In  the  midst 
of  all  this  predetermination  came  on  the  assizes  at  Ox 
ford;  Bradford  was  brought  to  trial;  he  pleaded  not 
guilty.  Nothing  could  be  more  strong  than  the  evi 
dence  of  the  two  gentlemen ;  they  testified  to  the  finding 


208  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

Mr.  Hayes  murdered  in  his  bed ;  Bradford  at  the  side  of 
the  body  with  a  light  and  a  knife  ;  that  knife  and  the 
hand  which  held  it  bloody ;  that  on.  their  entering  the 
room  he  betrayed  all  the  signs  of  a  guilty  man,  and  that 
a  few  moments  preceding,  they  heard  the  groans  of  the 
deceased. 

"  Bradford's  defense  on  his  trial  was  the  same  as  before 
the  gentlemen  :  he  had  heard  a  noise  ;  he  suspected  some 
villainy  transacting ;  he  struck  a  light ;  lie  snatched  a 
knife  (the  only  weapon  near  him)  to  defend  himself;  and 
the  terrors  he  discovered  were  merely  the  terrors  of  hu 
manity,  the  natural  effects  of  innocence  as  well  as  guilt, 
on  beholding  such  a  horrid  scene. 

"  This  defense,  however,  could  be  considered  but  as 
weak,  contrasted  with  several  powerful  circumstances 
agains  thim.  Never  was  circumstantial  evidence  more 
strong.  There  was  little  need  left  of  comment  from  the 
judge  in  summing  up  the  evidence.  No  room  appeared 
for  extenuation!  And  the  jury  brought  in  the  prisoner 
guilty,  even  without  going  out  of  the  box.  Bradford 
was  executed  shortly  after,  still  declaring  he  was  not 
the  murderer,  nor  privy  to  the  murder  of  Mr.  Hayes ; 
but  died  disbelieved  by  all. 

"  Yet  were  those  assertions  not  untrue  !  The  murder 
was  actually  committed  by  Mr.  Hayes's  footman  ;  who, 
immediately  on  stabbing  his  master,  rifled  his  breeches 
of  his  money,  gold  watch,  and  snuff-box,  and  escaped 
to  his  own  room ;  which  could  have  been,  from  the 
after  circumstances,  scarcely  two  seconds  before  Brad 
ford's  entering  the  unfortunate  gentleman's  chamber. 
The  world  owes  this  knowledge  to  a  remorse  of  con 
science  in  the  footman  (eighteen  months  after  the  execu 
tion  of  Bradford)  on  a  bed  of  sickness  ;  it  was  a  death 
bed  repentance,  and  by  that  death  the  law  lost  its 
victim." 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL   BLOSSOM.  209 

While  the  doctor  was  reading  the  last  paragraph,  Cap 
tain  Nelson  entered  the  office.  He  helped  himself  to  a 
seat  near  the  table  where  the  tAvo  gentlemen  were  sit 
ting. 

Doctor  Du  Bois  instantly  recognized  him,  although  he 
had  not  seen  the  detective  since  before  leaving  on  his 
five  years'  journey. 

The  captain's  naturally  agreeable  face  was  much  paler, 
and  his  general  appearance  considerably  changed,  and 
yet  the  doctor  immediately  called  him  by  name,  and 
asked —  * 

"  Any  news,  monsieur  ?  Do  you  unravel  the  mystery 
of  the  disappearance  and  murder  of  the  lovely  .Made 
moiselle  Ruciel  ?" 

Captain  Nelson  remained  a  moment  in  silence,  look 
ing  thoughtfully  with  downcast  eyes,  as  if  making  an 
effort  to  recall  something ;  then,  with  a  gloomy  deep 
ness  in  his  dark  eyes,  he  looked  unflinchingly  at  the 
calm  questioner,  and  said — 

"  No  news  of  importance,  sir.  The  unfortunate  crea 
ture  was  foully  dealt  with." 

Involuntarily  the  kind-hearted  physician  shuddered, 
for  he  recognized  the  voice  which  had  uttered  those  hell 
ish  sentiments  concerning  the  chastity  of  women.  The 
memory  of  that  conversation  with  the  captain  seemed 
for  a  moment  to  sting  and  stifle  every  generous  emotion 
in  the  doctor's  bosom.  His  countenance  flushed  and  his 
tongue  would  not  speak. 

Captain  Nelson's  quick  and  practiced  eye  caught  a 
glimpse  of  this  expression  on  the  doctor's  face.  A  bitter, 
heartless,  sarcastic  smile  curled  his  lips,  as  he  said  : 

"  You  seem  to  'be  uncomfortably  worried,  Dr.  Du 
Bois.  Perhaps  your  monotonous  home  in  New- York 
is  becoming  irksome  after  a  protracted  pleasure-trip 
through  the  old  countries  of  Europe." 


210  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

"  My  home  ?"  replied  the  doctor  with  tremulous  voice. 
"  I  have  no  home  in  New- York." 

"  Neither  have  I,"  hurriedly  the  captain  said  ;  "  and, 
sir,  what's  more,  I  contend  that  a  home  is  like  a  hencoop, 
fit  for  folks  when  they  are  small  chickens.  It  happened 
that  I  never  had  a  home,  although  my  father  was  a  weal 
thy  old  libertine." 

Mr.  Ruggleston  here  inquired :  "  Captain,  you  don't 
mean  to  say  that  a  home  is  not  desirable  for  little  chil 
dren  and  established  adult  citizens,  do  you  ?" 

"  For  hungry  and  puling  youngsters,"  replied  Nelson^ 
"  a  place  to  tie  up,  of  a  dark  night,  and  to  huddle 
about  during  meal  times,  is  all  well  enough.  But,  sir, 
decidedly  and  entirely  I  oppose  such  an  institution  for 
real  live,  wide-awake,  go-a-head,  enterprising  citizens  of 
the  United  States." 

"  My  experience  IA  full  of  the  most  delightful  remin 
iscences,"  said  the  doctor  with  unsuppressed  enthusi 
asm. 

"  And  my  recollection  of  a  home  in  New-Orleans," 
suddenly  rejoined  the  captain,  "  is  studded  with  the  most 
contemptible  experiences." 

"  Ah  monsieur !  "  said  the  doctor,  in  a  persuasive  and 
conciliatory  tone,  "  your  mother  was  your  home,  was 
she  not  ?" 

"A  rosy  savage,  rather,"  said  Nelson,  with  undis 
guised  hatred  in  his  voice  and  flushed  face.  "  My  mother, 
sir,  was  a  pretty  drawing-room  tigress.  She  loved 
jewels,  fine  garments,  a  pet  monkey,  and  the  vile  ca 
resses  of  that  magnificent  libertine." 

"  Monsieur  Nelson  is  untrammeled  in  his  speech,"  said 
the  doctor  blandly,  at  the  same  time  gestwing  encour 
agingly  for  further  disclosures.  "  You  describe  your  mo 
ther  as  a  perfect  specimen  of  fashionable  womanhood — 


TREES   OF   CRIME   IN   FULL   BLOSSOM.  211 

a  little  haughty,  perhaps,  but  undoubtedly  beautiful,  and 
extremely  fond  of  and  affectionate  to  pets." 

"  A  charming  fool,"  replied  the  captain  bitterly.  "  Sir," 
he  added  savagely,  "  she  used  to  horsewhip  me  while 
hugging  to  her  bosom  that  infernal  monkey." 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  the  doctor,  mildly,  "perhaps 
the  monkey  was  more  affectionate  and  more  obedient 
than  you." 

"Doctor  DuBois,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  fancy  myself 
possessed  of  some  penetration.  I  can  discern  the  differ 
ence  between  love  and  hate.  I  can  tell  the  difference 
between  a  pretty,  coquettish,  rosy-cheeked  savage,  and  a 
woman  of  practical  common  sense.  Now,  sir,  again  and 
again  I  have  been  told  by  that  charming  lover  of  the 
millionaire  libertine  that  she  hated  me  for  nine  months 
before'I  was  born!  Goths  and  Vandals!"  he  exclaim 
ed  with  intense  anger,  mingled  with  a  fierce  and  reck 
less  look  of  revenge:  "I  must  have  been  overjoyed 
when  some  hand  helped  me  to  escape  from  that  maternal 
prison." 

"  What,  Nelson,"  said  Mr.  Ruggleston,  inquiringly, 
"  ami  to  understand  that  you  was  an  unwelcome  child  ?" 

"  Unwelcomed  !  "  he  ejaculated  savagely — u  unwel- 
comed !  By  the  bloody  Goths !  That  sort  of  language, 
sir,  is  too  soft  for  my  case.  I  was  hated  with  a  hundred 
thousand  horse-power  of  hate.  Hated,  sir,  every  day  and 
every  hour  from  the  start.  Hated  with  more  hate  when, 
six  months  before  my  birth,  the  old  libertine  jilted  my 
monkey-loving  mother.  So  diabolically  was  I  hated, 
sir,  in  my  helpless  condition,  that  murderous  instruments 
were  introduced  to  destroy  me,  and  medicines  were  swal 
lowed  to  poison  my  existence.  Goths  and  Vandals !  I 
fully  believe  that  my  infant  heart  was  cut,  and  that  my 
infant  brain  was  poisoned;  for  the  one  is  continually 
bleeding  a'nd  the  other  is  continually  hardening  !  " 


212  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Lawyer  Ruggleston  was  deeply  impressed.  But  he 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  say  facetiously, 

"  Pretty  smart  boy,  anyhow,  to  know  so  much  six 
months  before  he  was  born." 

Nelson  added,  "  At  least  a  thousand  times,  I  have  been 
told  these  things  of  my  mother  by  servants  and  others 
who  had  knowledge  of  everything.  In  fact  she  herself 
never  once  lost  an  opportunity  to  impress  her  hate  upon 
me ;  and  the  savagely  more  so  after  she  was  abandoned 
by  the  aristocratic  villain,  because  she  said  '  I  resem 
bled  him:  " 

"  Captain  Nelson,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  voice  rich 
in  tones  of  compassion  and  kindness  :  "  Allow  me  to 
inquire,  further — Have  you  ever  dreamed  of  vengeance  ?" 

"  Next  to  my  ambition  for  great  wealth,  sir,"  Nelson 
replied,  "  is  the  mad  passion  in  my  red  blood  to  cut  the 
hearts  and  poison  the  brains  of  all  those  who  compelled 
me  to  enter  this  cursed  world  of  Goths  and  Vandals." 

His  self-justified  exasperation  had  thrown  him  off  his 
customary  balance. 

There  suddenly  shot  out  from  his  black  eyes  a  flash  of 
live  lightning  that  seemed  overloaded  with  a  terrific 
power  to  strike,  and  blast,  and  kill. 

"  Permit  me  to  indulge  the  hope,"  said  the  persuasive 
doctor,  with  a  volume  of  soothing  goodness  in  his  hon 
est  voice,  "  the  hope  that  you  have  never  yielded  to  your 
revengeful  feelings  so  far  as  to  inflict  any  physical  pain 
up<5n  either  your  father  or  mother." 

Nelson  made  no  verbal  reply.  He,  however,  shrugged 
his  shoulders  like  a  Frenchman,  and  smiled  sardonically. 
He  drew  from  his  side-pocket  an  elegant  gold  snuff-box, 
and  politely  extended  it  to  the  two  gentlemen  who  had 
just  risen  from  their  chairs.  Then  he  took  a  very  large 
pinch  for  his  own  use.  All  his  movements  and  man 
ners — excepting  a  slight  inclination  to  swagger  and  an 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.     213 

indescribable  expression  of  rakishness — closely  resem 
bled  the  carriage  of  a  thoroughbred  and  wealthy  gen 
tleman.  With  stern  composure  and  deliberation,  and 
yet  with  a  look  in  his  eyes  of  melancholy  presage,  he 
buttoned  his  half-military  coat  snugly  up  to  his  finely- 
bearded  chin.  Being  thus  prepared  to  leave  the  office, 
he  walked  straight  to  the  door ;  then,  soldierlike,  he 
turned  squarely  around — still  smiling  with  an  expression 
of  self-assurance  and  conscious  triumph — bowed  very  re 
spectfully  but  stiffly  to  the  professional  gentlemen,  who 
were  mutely  and  mutually  observing  him ;  and  then,  with 
the  lofty  dignity  and  cold  splendor  of  a  lord,  he  turned 
and  walked  out  into  the  renowned  thoroughfare  of  the 
New- York  money  changers. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"  CHECK  and  cliide 

The  aerial  angels  as  they  float  about  us, 
With  rules  of  so-called  wisdom,  till  they  grow 
The  same  tame  slaves  to  custom  and  the  world." 

HallecJc- 

"  RIGHTEOUS  God !"  exclaimed  lawyer  Ruggleston,  as 
soon  as  the  remarkable  captain  left  their  presence,  "I 
would  not  carry  Nelson's  conscience  for  all  the  riches  and 
splendors  of  Europe." 

"  Conscience !"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  tone  of  empha 
tic  remonstrance.  "  That  man,  sir,  notwithstanding  his 
really  high  intellectual  endowment,  is  a  national,  social, 
and  moral  monster." 

"  Come  this  way,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer,  as  he  led 
the  way  through  two  rooms  to  a  more  interior  office, 
containing  a  large  library  of  law-books  ;  "come,  let's  sit 


214  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

down  by  ourselves,  doctor,  and  talk  calmly  over  tins 
most  important  matter." 

The  two  professional  gentlemen,  who  were  now  more 
like  two  brothers,  and  bound  together  by  the  noblest 
principles  to  discharge  their  duty  against  the  common 
enemy,  sought  this  secluded  room  in  order  to  enter  into 
a  freer  conversation.  They  were  quite  removed  from 
the  incessant  confusions  and  annoying  interruptions  of 
the  business  departments,  wherein  the  distinguished 
junior  partners,  Messrs.  Stryker  and  Syrdam,  presided 
daily  over  the  immense  official  transactions  of  the  popu 
lar  legal  firm. 

"  Captain  Nelson's  confessions,"  said  the  lawyer, "struck 
me  like  a  thunderbolt.  In  fact,  my  thoughts  persisted, 
in  spite  of  my  wish  or  will,  in  analyzing  and  comparing 
Nelson's  remarks  concerning  himself  with  your  seven 
postulates,  in  which  you  give  the  formula  or  prescription, 
so  to  speak,  by  which  hereditary  and  circumstantial  causes 
might  have  been  so  centralized  and  organized  as  to  have 
made  him  the  murderer  of  the  young  woman,  Miss  Mary 
Ruciel.  And  yet,  doctor,  you  use  strong  language  about 
that  man's  conscience." 

Doctor  Du  Bois  immediately  raised  his  right  hand,  and 
pointing  and  shaking  his  fore-finger  with  emphasis,  said, 
"  Sir,  as  to  kindness  of  heart  and  moral  feelings  of  right 

*  o  o 

and  wrong,  that  man  is  as  depraved  as  a  vampire  and 
as  miserable  as  'an  idiot." 

"  Strong  language,  doctor,  and  very  denunciatory  too, 
of  a  New-York  detective,  whom  I  have  personally  known 
more  or  less  intimately,  and  seen  almost  every 'week,  for 
these  last  ten  years." 

"  Monsieur  Ruggleston,"  said  the  firm  and  dignified 

OO  7  O 

doctor,  with  a  look  of  remonstrance  mingled  with  feel 
ings  closely  resembling  resentment — "  sir,  that  is  a  bad, 
cruel,  wicked,  murderous  man." 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  215 

The  two  men  gazed  for  a  moment  at  each  other,  the  law 
yer's  countenance  indicating  awakened  feelings  of  anxiety, 
cui-iosity,  and  amazement,  while  the  generous  and  hand 
some  face  of  the  physician  kindled  with  excitement,  and 
his  expressive  eyes  enlarged  with  the  consciousness  of  a 
great  unselfish  truth  welling  up  behind  them. 

"  In  the  name  of  sovereign  science,  monsieur,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  I  pronounce  sentence  upon  Captain  Nelson." 

"  You  are  not  his  judge,  doctor,"  said  the  lawyer, "  and 
besides,  he  has  not  yet  been  fairly  tried  before  this  secret 
conclave  of  inquisition." 

"  Ah,  you  smile,  monsieur  !  Sir,  my  authority  is  based 
on  immutable  science.  By  its  exact  principles  I  affirm — 
of  course  confidentially  to  you,  sir — that  Captain  Nelson 
is  a  constitutional  hater  of  his  fellow-men — a  social  out 
law,  sir — a  freebooter,  sir,  disregarding  the  finest  feelings 
of  humanity — in  a  word,  sir,  he  is,  by  the  laws  of  inheri 
tance,  a  moral  monstrosity." 

"Then,  where  is  that  man's  free-will  and  moral  re 
sponsibility  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ruggleston,  earnestly. 

"  In  the  name  of  science,  monsieur,"  returned  the  doc 
tor,  "do  you  not  rather  ask  where  is  parental  responsi 
bility  ?  Look  out  into  the  street,  monsieur.  Child-beg 
gars  and  adult  vagrants — outcasts,  vagabonds,  petty 
thieves,  and  imbeciles — sir,  are  they  not  the  offspring  of 
demoralized  and  intemperate  fathers  and  mothers  ?  Are 
they  not  born,  sir,  with  the  vice  of  vagrancy  circulating 
through  their  very  hearts  ?  Do  they  not,  sir,  inherit 
physical  and  mental  disqualifications  for  obtaining  an 
honest  livelihood  through  the  exalting  agencies  of  useful 
and  profitable  labor  ?  No,  monsieur  1  The  offspring  of 
such  parents  are  naturally  indolent — without  the  check 
ing  and  controlling  feelings  of  right  and  wrong — and 
they  are,  therefore,  constitutionally  unfit  for  industri 
al  and  civilizing  pursuits.  They  are  bodily  lazy,  and 


TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

mentally  thriftless  by  inheritance.  Destitute  of  ambition 
for  enterprise  and  emigration,  and  almost  always  with 
out  homes,  sir — without  the  fostering  and  strengthening 
soil  of  a  true  home  of  love,  sir — in  which  alone  the  roots 
and  germs  of  individual  virtue  and  happiness  can  cling, 
and  flourish,  and  unfold — then,  sir,  what  are  the  results  ? 
A  world  of  sufferers,  and  a  world  of  criminals  !" 

"  All  quite  true,  quite  true,  doctor,"  said  the  attentive 
lawyer  ;  "but,  just  now,  I  am  especially  curious  about 
the  antecedents  of  this  remarkable  Captain  Nelson  of  the 
detective  force." 

Instantly  the  doctor's  face  was  in  a  blaze  of  excitement. 
"  Oh  !  monsieur,  here  is  my  theory  :  A  physically  health 
ful  young  woman,  but  mentally  stupefied,  and  morally 
weak  and  ignorant,  gestated  and  turned  upon  society  a 
savage  nature,  a  horrid  child  of  evil,  yet  externally  ap 
pearing  in  the  lovely  form  of  man,  with  a  capacious  in 
tellect  firmly  rooted  in  selfish  instincts,  and  animated 
with  vicious  vital  proclivities." 

"  State,  if  you  please,  explicitly  and  entirely,"  said  the 
lawyer,  "  what  influences  were  ante-natally  at  work,  and 
how  those  influences  worked  post-natal!  y,  to  produce  the 
monstrous  character  you  describe." 

"  Certainly,  monsieur,"  replied  the  polite  physician. 
"  With  your  permission,  sir,  I  will  state  what  I  know. 
Positive  feelings  and  governing  thoughts,  during  the 
most  delicate  and  impressible  period  of  pregnancy, 
appear  sooner  or  later,  either  in  the  bodily  persons  or 
in  the  mental  characteristics  of  children." 

"  Yes,  doctor,  that  is  your  proposition  ;  now,  if  you 
please,  present  in  brief  your  facts  and  arguments." 

"  Maternity,"  said  the  doctor,  with  beautiful  simplicity 
and  modesty,  "is  a  divine  wonder!  Stern,  rude,  and 
cruel  women  ai'e  often,  under  the  mysterious  influence  of 
maternity,  transformed  into  miracles  of  hovering  tender 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  217 

ness  and  fostering  affection.  On  the  other  hand,  tender 
and  artistic  natures,  by  the  fact  of  pregnancy  may  be 
raarvelously  changed  for  the  worse  in  their  thoughts  and 
feelings.  The  pregnant  state  is  announced  by  the  sup 
pression  of  the  periodical  evacuation,  which  is  generally 
accompanied  with  fullness  in  the  breasts,  headache, 
flushings  in  the  face,  and  heat  in  the  palins  of  the  hands. 
Consequently  many  women,  soon  after  entering  upon  ma 
ternity,  become  very  much  altered  in  their  looks,  and  have 
peculiar  irritable  feelings,  inducing  a  disposition  of  mind 
which  renders  their  temper  easily  ruffled,  and  inciting  an 
irresistible  propensity  to  actions  of  which,  on  other  occa 
sions,  they  would  be  ashamed.  There  is  also  morning 
sickness,  with  a  tendency  to  vomiting,  and  often  intrac 
table  emesis.  In  such  cases,  the  features  acquire  a  pe 
culiar  sharpness,  the  eyes  appear  larger,  and  the  mouth 
wider  than  usual ;  and  the  woman  has  a  particular  ap 
pearance,  which  can  not  be  described,  but  with  which 
women  are  well  acquainted." 

"  At  about  what  time,"  asked  the  inquisitive  lawyer, 
"  does  the  greatest  inter-impressibility  exist,  by  which 
the  feelings  of  the  woman  are  most  disturbed,  and 
through  which  the  fetal  characteristics  are  by  the  moth 
er  imparted  and  determined  ?" 

"The  period  of  greatest  psychological  impressibility 
commences  positively  at  the  beginning  of  the  third 
month,  and  thence  is  continued  with  a  progressive  in 
crease  of  power,  until  about  the  first  of  the  ninth  month, 
at  which  time  is  inaugurated  a  happy  period  of  passive 
growth  of  the  bodily  parts  of  the  child,  giving  the  ner 
vous  systems  of  both  mother  and  fetus  a  much  needed 
opportunity  to  gain  some  rest,  and  thus  be  the  better 
prepared  for  the  critical  and  painful  labors  of  parturition." 

"Now,  doctfor,  taking  Captain  Nelson's  voluntary 
confessions  of  his  antecedents  as  a  basis,  state,  if  you 
10 


218  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

please,  the  effect  of  his  mother's  feelings  and  mental 
conditions  upon  him  prior  to  his  birth,  and  the-  results 
on  his  subsequent  life. 

"  Certainly,  monsieur,"  said  he.  "  First,  she  received 
the  child's  germinal  essences  at  the  climax  of  a  powerful 
libertine's  passion.  Result  in  offspring :  vigorous  vitali 
ty  and  quick  muscular  energy,  a  fiery  temperament, 
magnetic  but  short-lived  amativeness,  and  a  tendency 
to  longevity. 

"Second.  She  was  outrageously  neglected  and  de 
serted  by  the  man  on  whom  all  her  fondest  feelings  were 
freely  bestowed  ;  therefore  intense  hatred,  possibly  jeal 
ous  feelings,  and  dreams  of  revenge,  took  possession  of 
her  heart  and  mind  throughout  the  period  of  pregnancy. 
Result  in  offspring :  Inversion  of  all  benevolent  affec 
tions,  uncontrollable  animosity,  a  diabolical  contempt 
for  mankind,  and  sudden  impulses  toward  the  commis 
sion  of  murder.  Suicide,  also,  is  sometimes  a  temp 
tation. 

"  Third.  She  commenced  to  throw  off  every  real  and 
imaginary  bond  that  could  possibly  link  her  destiny  or 
memory  with  the  unprincipled  libertine  who  had  merci 
lessly  deserted  her,  by  terribly  hating  (sometimes  feebly 
and  with  fickleness,  at  other  times  with  a  maddening 
passionateness  of  demoniac  repulsion)  the  little  soul  and 
the  little  body  that  were  steadily  unfolding  within  her 
conscious  existence ;  she  frequently  weeping ;  wishing, 
praying  for  its  sudden  death ;  and  silently  cursing  it, 
and  by  nauseating  medicines  and  by  surgical  instru 
ments  attempting  to  murder  the  approaching  fiercely- 
hated  little  stranger.  Result  on  offspring :  A  natural 
impatience  and  contempt  for  woman,  no  reverence  for 
her  maternal  functions,  no  respect  for  her  delicate  im 
pulses  and  feelings,  and  an  irresistible  propulsion  burn 
ing  in  the  very  life  of  his  blood,  and  firing  his  intellect 


TREES  OF  CRIME  IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  219 

with  practical  plans,  to  wander  like  a  savage,  diabolical 
freebo^er,  through  the  social  system  of  humanity,  bent 
on  empowering  himself  with  money  acquired  by  robbery, 
poison,  and  murder." 

"  Beware  of  circumstantial  evidence,"  said  the  lawyer 
good-naturedly.  "Now,  really,  doctor,  would  you 
bring  Captain  Nelson  to  trial  on  your  abstract  theory 
of  the  ante-natal  causes  of  crime  ?" 

"  No,  no,  monsieur.  But,  sir,  I  shall  most  certainly 
put  him  in  my  new  volume  on  the  hereditary  origin  of 
physical,  mental,  and  moral  debasement,  which  is  the 
fountain-head  of  all  human  vices  and  crimes." 

Mr.  Ruggleston  involuntarily  smiled,  and  said,  pleas 
antly,  "  Well,  doctor,  that  will  be  the  climax  of  all  cru 
elty  in  the  art  of  punishment." 

Then  he  added,  "And  yet,  doctor,  it  is  hardly  cither 
justice  or  humanity  to  condemn  a  fellow-citizen  and  im 
prison  him  in  a  book  on  science  before  he  is  convicted  of 
any  capital  crime  or  petty  misdemeanor." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  the  extremely  earnest  physician, 
"  I  shall  immediately  proceed  to  detect  the  whole  ante 
natal  and  post-natal  truth  in  this  case ;  and  then,  sir,  he 
shall  appear  in  my  quota  of  criminals  under  the  fixed 
laws  of  human  'propagation." 

"Quota  of  criminals  !"  echoed  the  lawyer.  "  What,-  in 
the  name  of  righteousness,  does  that  mean?" 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  you  shall  see  presently."  With  great 
animation  the  medical  man  Avent  on:  "Under  the  law 
of  human  propagation — especially  during  the  protracted 
reign  of  ignorance  in  that  most  divine  function  of 
woman — there  is  a  mathematical  proportion  of  human 
failures.  All  cities,  for  example,  will  have,  in  propor 
tion  to  their  population  and  physical  circumstances,  a 
certain  fixed  quota  of  sick,  of  infirm,  of  vagrants,  of 


220  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

idlers,  of  indigents,of  paupers,  of  drunkards,  of  adulterers, 
of  thieves,  of  swindlers,  and  of  murderers."  * 

"  What,  doctor !  Do  you  really  mean  to  say  that  the 
whole  and  entire  quota  of  each  class  come  from  mis 
directed  feelings  and  demoralized  thoughts  of  mothers 
during  pregnancy  ?  " 

"No,  monsieur,  no.  This,  rather,  is  my  meaning: 
that  human  failures,  in  the  propagation  of  our  species, 
bear  a  certain  mathematical  proportion  to  the  population 
of  a  city  or  kingdom." 

"Do  you  account  for  the  existence  of  all  imbecile, 
idiotic,  insane,  abandoned,  and  vicious  characters  upon 
this  principle  ?  " 

"For  a  certain  proportion  of  them  only,  monsieur. 
Ignorance  or  mis-education  next,  and  debasing  physical 
and  social  circumstances  subsequent  to  birth,  account 
for  the  remainder." 

"Then,  doctor,  if  I  comprehend  you,  you  imagine 
that  a  wider  diffusion  of  just  knowledge  among  men  and 
women,  both  married  and  unmarried,  concerning  the 
laws  of  the  physical  and  mental  inception,  organization, 
and  multiplication  of  our  species,  will  have  a  tendency 
to  lessen  the  sum  of  suffering  and  crime,  by  preventing 
ill-assorted  marriages  and  the  propagation  of  defective 
offspring?  Do  you  mean  to  argue  that  side  of  the 
question,  doctor?" 

"  Exactly  so,  monsieur — exactly.  Ah,  sir  !  you  charm 
and  honor  me  with  your  sympathy  and  appreciation." 

"  Not  my  sympathy,  doctor  ;  for,  although  I  agree  in 
the  main  with  many  of  your  sentiments,  as  yet  I  am  not 
a  convert  to  your  peculiar  theory." 

"  Ah,  true.  But,  sir,  you  shall  be  most  positively 
convinced.  My  agreeable  assistant,  a  brilliant  young 
man,  will  cooperate  with  me  as  detective.  We  shall 
find  in  this  very  city  *  confirmation  strong ' — thrilling 


TREES  OF  CRIME   IN  FULL  BLOSSOM.  221 

facts,  sir,  most  startling  evidences,  too  plain  and  too 
potential  to  be  resisted  by  either  judge  or  jury." 

"  Criminals  will  not  suffer  in  your  hands,  will  they 
doctor?  ' 

"  Justice  is  an  inherent  law  of  the  physical  and  men 
tal  universe,  monsieur;  if  it  develop  sufferings  in  a 
criminal  it  is  both  right  and  remedial,  and  sometimes  I 
let  him  suffer." 

"  True,  doctor.  But  I  take  it  that  you  have  what  is 
called  a  heart  in  your  bosom  ?" 

Tears  suddenly  started  in  the  mild  eyes  of  the  doctor. 
Emotions  of  benevolence  and  love,  warm  and  gushing 
from  a  fountain  of  innate  affection,  choked  his  utterance. 
After  a  pause,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  he 
feelingly  replied — 

"Monsieur  Ruggleston,  I  adore  knowledge,  sir,  and 
yet — I  would  rather  be  robbed  of  my  head  than  lose  the 
love  of  my  heart." 

The  lawyer  smiled  pleasantly,  and  said,  "  Yes,  doctor 
the  cold  and  lofty  justice  of  the  universe  is  rapidly 
warmed  and  melted,  and  becomes  very  soon  a  healing 
balm  to  poor  wounded  humanity,  when  it  streams 
through  the  chambers  of  your  heart.  Am  I  right 
doctor?" 

Not  another  word  passed  between  them.  They  seemed 
half  inclined  to  embrace  one  another,  and  give  way  to 
the  sudden  exuberance  and  congeniality  of  their  sym 
pathetic  natures.  But,  unhappily,  such  manifestations 
of  affection  among  men  ded  Avith  lofty  contempt 

by  the  dignified  icebergs  of  society.  Therefore  with  a 
warm,  fraternal  hand-shaking,  the  gentlemen  separated ; 
but  only,  however,  to  meet  again  soon,  under  different 
circumstances,  and  for  the  accomplishment  of  important 
ends. 

END     OF     PAET    II. 


PART    III. 
REAPING  THE  FRUITS   OF   CRIME. 

CHAPTER  I. 

"  B  TJT  let  us  now,  like  soldiers  on  the  watch, 
Put  the  soul's  armor  on,  alike  prepared 
For  all  a  soldier's  warfare  brings." — Bailie. 

EVENTS  come  and  rush  by  like  the  flight  of  eagles. 
"We  seem  to  see  them  as  they  pass  us  and  disappear  be 
neath  the  swift  tide  of  the  river  of  time.  But  so  be 
guiled  and  involved  are  we  by  the  circumstances  which 
immediately  surround  us,  and  so  entertained  and  con 
sumed  by  our  present  sensations,  that  we  do  not  realize 
how  inseparably  related  we  individually  are  to  the  events 
and  consequent  changes  which  occur  in  the  physical,  hu 
man,  and  mental  worlds  in  which  we  live  and  have  our 
being ;  and  thus  a  majority  of  isolated  and  selfish  per. 
sons  acquire  a  belief  that  they  are  not  individually  con. 
nected  with  or  in  any  manner  accountable  for  the  misfor 
tunes,  faults,  vices,  and  crimes  of  other  and  unknown 
persons  in  the  moving  and  breathing  world  about  them. 
Time,  however,  which  progressively  brings  changes  and 
wisdom  to  every  one  sooner  or  later,  is  a  powerful  ele 
ment  in  overcoming  the  selfishness,  injustices,  and  mise 
ries  of  humanity. 

About  an  hour  after  night  fall,  two  rough  and  ready 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  223 

men,  each  mounted  on  the  bareback  of  a  stout  country 
horse,  were  riding  along  the  road  leading  from  a  remote 
fisherman's  hut  on  the  Jersey  shore,  near  Metetecunk 
River,  and  about  five  miles  from  Squan  Beach,  to  a  small 
fishing  schooner  waiting  for  them  in  Shark  River.  A 
cold,  sleety  rain-storm  from  the  Atlantic  ocean  was  rag 
ing  fearfully.  A  furious  wind  swept  down  the  invisible 
road,  and  into  the  grim  faces  of  the  travelers,  with  such 
violence  as  to  render  rapid  riding  impossible.  They  bru 
tally  whipped  and  cursed,  however,  and  damned  and 
kicked  and  pounded  the  poor  stiff-jointed  and  half-starved 
animals ;  in  fact,  they  did  and  they  vociferated  all  the 
outlandish  and  uncivilized  and  unfeeling  and  inhuman 
things  which  are  expected  of  men  in  their  irrational  and 
savage  treatment  of  horses  ;  and  yet  it  continued  to  be 
impossible,  in  that  tempestuous  storm  and  in  such  pitch- 
black  dai-kness,  to  force  the  weaiy  animals  into  a  canter. 
Sometimes,  after  fearful  goadings,  the  beasts  would  trot 
a  dozen  yards  or  so,  and  then  break  down.  Notwith 
standing  the  merciless  urgings  and  whippings  and  curs 
ings,  a  "  walking  speed  "  was  all  the  brutal  travelers  could 
get  out  of  the  half-perished  horses. 

Thus  after  a  long  and  exhausting  journey,  the  two 
savage-looking  men,  but  with  countenances  expressive 
rather  of  stupidity  and  stolid  indifference,  arrived  wet 
and  half-frozen  at  the  old  weather-beaten  fishing  vessel. 

The  tempestuous  fury  of  the  storm  began  to  abate ; 
and  far  away  over  the  Atlantic  they  noticed  the  first 
signs  of  morning  light.  The  men  peered  about  cautiously 
and  listened  attentively.  No  person  or  other  living  ob 
ject  was  within  sight ;  and  no  sounds  save  the  bellowing 
winds  and  the  splashing  waters. 

"  Halloo  ! "  sharply  shouted  one  of  the  men,  "  Jack 
Flemmer  !  Dick  Lindsay !  Halloo,  there !  " 

"  You  damn  screech-owl !  "  scrawled  the  other.  "Plug 


224  TALE  xOF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

your  old  windpipe.  Your  devilish  squeaking  and  squall 
ing  will  fetch  about  us  more  cursed  Jerseymen  than  we 
can  find  time  to  anchor  in  Shark  River  for  a  week  to 
come." 

No  answer  was  returned,  however,  save  the  whistling 
and  booming  of  the  winds  through  the  rigging  of  the 
schooner.  "  Sharks  all  gone ?"  asked  one.  "Well,  let 
'em  go,"  the  other  gruffly  replied.  "The  jig  is  all  up 
with  us  this  time  ;  so  let's  turn  in  and  get  some  sleep." 

In  fact  the  fellows  were  over  five  hours  behind  the 
"  time  "  that  was  fixed  upon  for  their  appearance.  And 
the  consequence  was  that  a  brutal  murder  and  a  great 
robbery,  which  had  been  long  planned  to  come  off  at 
twelve  o'clock  on  that  very  night  in  New-Jersey,  never 
happened. 

And  another  murder  and  another  robbery,  but  con 
ceived  and  arranged  by  other  men,  to  occur  that  very 
night  in  the  Carlton  Hotel  in  New -York,  was  also  pre 
vented,  but  through  a  very  different  set  of  circumstances. 

About  twenty  minutes  past  nine  o'clock  in  the  even 
ing,  while  Doctor  Du  Bois  and  his  gallant  young  detec 
tive,  Fred  Wilson,  were  engaged  in  a  pleasant  conver 
sation  about  indifferent  matters,  a  man  suddenly  knocked 
at  the  door  and  entered  without  further  ceremony.  He 
was  dressed  in  the  shabbily  genteel  style.  His  manners 
were  those  of  a  real  loafer  but  pretended  gentleman  ; 
staggering  slightly  as  though  under  the  influence  of 
drink ;  his  heavy  lips  were  swollen  and  his  small  eyes  in 
flamed  ;  a  large  forehead,  a  short  red  nose,  rather  large 
ears,  a  thick  black  beard,  stout  arms  and  legs,  a  corpu 
lent  stomach,  a  coarse  and  strong  voice.  Unannounced, 
unpermitted,  the  dissolute  and  disagreeable  stranger 
walked  about  the  apartment,  (which  was  the  doctor's 
private  office,  also  used  by  Fred  as  a  bed  room,  at  the 
head  of  the  first  broad  flight  of  stairs,)  and  seemed  to  be 


EEAPING-  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  225 

amusing  himself,  in  a  half  maudlin  manner,  with  the 
doctor's  large  collection  of  valuable  foreign  curiosities. 
While  thus  staggering  and  peering  about,  but  with 
a  slightly  foreign  accent,  he  hoarsely  began  to  sing : — 

"  When  I  was  a  young  lad, 

My  fortune  was  bad, 
If  e'er  I  do  well  'tis  a  wonder. 

I  spent  all  my  means 

Amid  sharpers  and  queans, 
Then  I  got  a  commission  to  plunder. 

I  have  stockings,  'tis  true, 

But  the  devil  a  shoe, 
I  am  forced  to  wear  boots  in  all  weather, 

Be  d d  the  boot-sole, 

Curse  on  the  spur-roll, 
Confounded  be  the  upper-leather." 

"  What  will  you  have,  stranger  ?"  asked  the  doctor 
kindly,  rising  and  walking  to  where  the  intruder  stood. 
"  Ha,  ha  !  hurrah,  hurrah  !  ha,  he,  ho,  ho,"  laughed 
and  shouted  the  fellow.  Then  suddenly  and  comically 
checking  himself,  he  said — "  All  I  can  get,  mister,  and  as 
much  moi'e  as  you've  a  mind  to  give  me." 

"  Stranger  ! "  demanded  the  doctor,  with  the  firm 
and  quick  energy  of  a  fearless  man,  yet  fired  by  the  ex 
citement  of  sudden  apprehension — "  State  your  busi 
ness  ! " 

"  By  thunderbolts,"  replied  he,  with  another  burst  of 
coarse  laughter — "  now  that's  kind  of  you.  Well,  come 
— I'll  tell  you.  Once  I  was  a  quarrelsome  soldier  in  Un 
cle  Sam's  employ.  Now  I  cheat  death,  and  get  whisky- 
money,  by  catching  fish  along  Shark  River  away  down 
and  over  in  the  Jarseys." 

The  doctor,  although  considerably  excited,  appeared 
perfectly  cool  and  collected.      Without  betraying  the 
least  sign  of  trepidation,  he  tapped  the  annoying  visitor 
10* 


226  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

on  the  shcmlder  and  ordered  him  peremptorily  to  "  Leave 
the  room." 

With  an  expression  of  indescribable  comical  stupidity 
on  his  bloated  but  jolly  face,  and  with  a  drunkard's  dis 
gusting  indifference  to  decency  and  others'  rights,  and 
in  his  maudlin  manner  of  address,  he  said,  "  Don't  be 
alarmed.  Don't  give  up  the  ship.  Fisherman's  luck. 
Never  say  die.  Live  and  let  live.  Jersey  fish  and  Jer 
sey  whisky.  Them's  my  sentiments.  Open  field  and 
fair  fight.  'Sa'lt  and  battery  every  night.  Them's  my 
sentiments." 

While  reeling  off  these  disjointed  sentences,  he  man 
aged  to  find  in  one  of  his  pockets  a  slip  of  writing-paper, 
which,  with  the  fumbling  clumsiness  of  an  intoxicated 
man,  he  finally  presented  to  Doctor  Du  Bois,  accompa 
nied  with  a  rollicking  bit  of  unasked  advice,  "  Sir,  jest 
you  read  that  President's  message." 

Immediately  the  doctor  proceeded  to  read  aloud,  so 
that  his  assistant  detective  could  hear  every  word,  as  fol 
lows  : 

deer  doctr  do  boys — jack  flemmer  \vil  han  yu  this,  i  no  a  man  in 
room  no.  23  and  he  is  agoin  to  rob  yur  hirun  box  to  nite,  i  no  him 
he  alus  dus  wot  he  Ses  an  he  is  benboreding  heare  2  das  on  a  pur- 
pis  i  no  yu  wus  again  Out  to  nite  an  he  noed  it  tu  an  the  deede  ho 
wil  du  if  he  Shedds  yur  blud  for  lie's  mad  at  u  fore  sain  to  mistr 
rugleston  he  wus  no  beter  nor  a  vyllin  an  i  no  jack  flemmer  is  rite  an 
no  feers  fur  im  i  no  yur  fren  wilsun  an  he  nos  Me  an  he  wil  sa  wot 
i  sa  is  the  trooth — 0  mi  god  doctr  do  boys  i  hoop  yu  wil  bee  spard 
to  du  yur  doty  so  no  moar  at  prisint  frum  yur  fren 

nelly  makfarland. 

"  Nellie  MacFarland !"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  interro 
gatively,  as  soon  as  he  had  finished  reading  the  awfully 
written  and  worse-spelled  letter — "  Fred,  have  you  posi 
tive  knowledge  of  any  such  person  ?" 

Young  Wilson  with  the  utmost  difficulty  concealed  his 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  227 

embarrassment.  His  thoughts  fled  backward  some  six 
years  to  the  Globe  Hotel  in  Duane  street.  It  was  through 
Nellie's  instrumentality  that  he,  (Wilson,)  acting  under 
the  motive  of  fear  and  the  consequent  coercion  exercised 
upon  him  by  the  tyrant  Captain  Nelson,  effected  an  en 
trance  into  the  kind-hearted  Doctor  Du  Bois's  sleeping 
room.  He  recalled  all  the  circumstances  of  that  resent 
ful  robbery.  Sudden  mortification  and  regretful  misery 
for  a  moment  prevented  utterance.  Apparently  taking 
time  to  recollect,  however,  he  soon  replied,  yet  rather 
dreamily  and  indefinitely, 

"  It  seems — to  me — that  the  name — is  that  of  a — of  a 
kitchen  girl— who  used  to  work — in  a — in  a  down-town 
hotel." 

Turning  to  the  staggering  and  singing  stranger,  the 
doctor  asked,  "  Where  can  I  find  the  writer  of  this  mes 
sage  ?" 

"  Hurrah  !  ha,  ha,  ho,  ho  !  Come  now,  that's  jolly !" 
said  the  drunken  and  comical  visitor ;  then  he  continued, 
"  Thunderbolts !  Some  streets  away.  Trip  up  the  lad 
ders  to  mast-head.  Four  stories  from  the  ground-floor. 
Back  room.  Under  the  sky-light.  Broken  out.  Rain 
washing  in.  Sick  young  woman  on  the  straw.  Nellie 
putting  cinders  on  the  fire.  Three  hungry  children.  Tea 
and  bread — know  where  it  is,  sir? — know  where  she  lives, 
now,  sir?" 

"  Wilson,"  said  the  doctor,  "  shall  we  call  in  a  police 
man  to  arrest  this  fellow  for  outrageous  trespassing,  or 
shall  we  heed  this  warning,  and  reward  this  interloper 
for  bringing  the  note  from  Nellie's  attic  ?" 

"  One  moment,  sir,"  said  Wilson  promptly.  "  Retain 
the  fellow  till  I  step  down  to  the  desk.  The  proprietor, 
or  the  gentlemanly  clerk,  will  inform  me  at  once  who  oc 
cupies  room  No.  23." 

Noisy  groups  of  men  were  clamoring  in  the  office  on 


228  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

political  topics.  But  the  energetic  and  quick  walking 
detective  crowded  his  way  up  to  the  hotel  register.  He 
rapidly  examined  the  recorded  lists  of  names  for  three 
days  back,  and  found  that  two  nights  before  No.  23  was 
taken  by  a  man  who  had  clumsily  written  his  name, 
"John  B.  Myers,  Albany,  N.  Y." 

Wilson  immediately  beckoned  to  the  book-keeper,  who 
at  once  drew  quite  near,  so  that,  in  whisper  tones,  Fred 
asked,"  Is  Mr.  John  Myers,  of  No.  23,  among  the  crowd  of 
men  in  this  office  ?" 

Instantly  the  clerk's  searching  eye  caught  a  glimpse 
of  that  gentleman.  He  cautiously  pointed  him  out  to 
Wilson.  "  Aha !"  said  he  to  himself,  as  his  steady  black 
eyes  rested  on  the  features  of  an  old  member  of  the  secret 
association — "  Dick  Lindsay,  eh  ?" 

Next  moment  the  young  detective  returned  to  the 
doctor's  office.  "  All  right,  sir.  Reward  this  honest 
intruder,  but  only  on  condition  that  he  will  let  me  ac 
company  him  to  Nell  MacFarland's  attic." 

"  Who's  occupying  No.  23  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 
"An  old  hotel-thief,"  replied  Wilson.     "There's  no 
blacker   villain,  no  meaner  sneak-robber,  out  of  New- 
Jersey,  than  this  same  Dick  Lindsay." 

This  unexpected  intelligence  gave  the  doctor  a  disa 
greeable  and  mysterious  sensation.  "  Marvelous  !"  ex 
claimed  he.  "  Last  night  a  voice  came  to  me  in  a  dream" 
saying,  '  Guard  your  property  and  your  life.'  Already' 
eh?  my  midnight  dream  is  a  reality!  O  marvelous 
world !" 

Then  turning  to  the  New-Jersey  fisherman,  who  was 
beginning  to  behave  somewhat  more  like  the  civilized 
citizens  of  other  states,  the  physician  handed  him  a  small 
gold  coin,  and  said,  "  Present  my  most  cordial  compli 
ments  to  the  person  who  wrote  that  warning  letter.  As 
for  yourself,  notwithstanding  the  discourtesy  of  your 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIMP].  229 

New-Jersey  style  of  entering  other  people's  premises, 
here's  hoping  you  will  catch  as  many  fish  as  ever  swarm 
ed  into  the  great  net  of  St.  Peter." 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  THE  spiritual  world 
Lies  all  about  us,  and  its  avenues 
Are  open  to  tlie  unseen  feet  of  phantoms 
That  come  and  go,  and  we  perceive  them  not, 
Save  by  their  influence,  or  when  at  times 
A  most  mysterious  Providence  permits  them 
To  manifest  themselves  to  mortal  eyes." 

Longfellow. 

FEED  WILSON  found  Nellie's  dark  and  squalid  attic. 
He  took  good  care,  however,  not  to  enter  the  apartment. 
Nellie,  now  grown  to  vigorous  womanhood,  came  out 
side.  They  conversed  in  subdued  tones  on  the  landing 
of  the  stairs.  Her  warm,  impulsive  Irish  heart  overflow 
ed  the  moment  she  heard  his  voice.  Suddenly  drawing 
his  face  to  her  with  her  strong  hands,  she  actually  kissed 
him,  first  on  one  cheek  and  then  on  the  other.  Then  the 
tears  of  joy  streamed  down  her  ruddy  face,  and  she  sob 
bed  and  cried  dreadfully. 

"  Hush,  Nellie,"  said  Wilson,  sternly.  "  Now  about 
to-night's  adventure  at  the  Carlton  Hotel.  What  do  you 
know  about  it  ?" 

"Oh  !  God  be  good  to  us  !"  she  replied,  half  frightened 
and  still  crying.  "  God  help  us  !" 

"  Tell  all — every  thing — quick,  quick !  Not  a  moment 
to  lose !" 

And  Nellie  began :  "The  poor  sick  craythur's  brother, 
Jack  Flemmer,  sur,  coom  to  visit  her,  and  brought  a  big 
bag  full  of  fish  ;  and,  sur,  as  he  was  walking  the  streets 


230  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

sur,  he  spied  Dick  Lindsay — the  miserable  ould  vaga 
bond  of  a  murderer,  an  ses  he  to  Dick  ses  he,  and  where 
the  divil  are  ye  sthaying?  And  then  ses  Dick  ses  he,  '  At 
the  Carlton  Hotel,'  ses  he ;  then  ses  Jack  ses  he,  an  whin 
did  ye  coom,  an  where  do  ye  slape,  an  what  the  divil 
are  ye  fishing  for  ?'  An  then  Dick  Lindsay  went  on  walk 
ing  in  the  streets,  saying  nothin  at  all  at  all." 

"  Be  quick,  Nellie,  quick !  How  did  you  find  out  what 
Dick  was  trying  to  do  at  the  hotel  ?  " 

"  An  shure,  sur,"  replied  she,  "an'  don't  I  do  the  wash 
ing  and  all  the  mendin'  for  police-captain  Nelson ;  an  'did 
not  he  say  in  my  own  very  hearing,  (the  ould  villain  !) 
that  the  rich  ould  Frinch  doctor  at  Carlton's  would 
bleed  this  very  night ;  an'  shui-e,  sur,  didn't  I  know  that 
the  bloody  craythur  of  sin  allus  done  what  he  promises?  " 

Bidding  the  Irish  Nellie  good-night,  and  leaving  a 
valuable  piece  of  silver  in  her  hand,  promising  to  see 
her  again,  and  telling  her  to  "  keep  still, "  young  Wil 
son  made  all  possible  haste  back  to  the  office. 

"  Doctor,"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he  could  catch  his  breath} 
"  Nellie  MacFarland  has  saved  your  life." 

"  What,  sir  ?  "  said  he,  "  saved  my  life !    How  ?  " 

"  She  washes  and  irons  and  mends  for  one  Captain 
Nelson,  and  he  carelessly  let  out  to  her  the  secret  plot  to 
murder  and  rob  you  !" 

"Indeed!  Very  well.    Now  how  shall  we  proceed?" 

"This  Dick  Lindsay,*  replied  Wilson,  "  is  nothing 
but  a  sneak  thief.  Of  himself,  he  could  do  no  harm  to 
any  body.  Nelson  runs  him  as  a  steam-engine  turns  the 
shaft  and  wheels  of  a  boat.  If  we  let  him  know  that  he 
is  *  spotted,'  that  '11  be  the  last  of  him.  Captain  Nelson 
can  be  checkmated  on  some  other  plan." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  doctor,  evidently  highly  charm 
ed  with  the  rapid  and  reasonable  suggestions  of  his 
assistant.  "  You  will  immediately  *  spot'  him,  eh  ?  " 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  231 

Wilson  bowed  politely  and  disappeared.  He  pro 
ceeded  to  the  office,  requested  the  obliging  clerk  to  ap 
proach  Mr.  John  Myers,  and  ask  him  a  moment  into  the 
hall  leading  to  the  door  that  opened  on  Broadway.  The 
young  detective  also  requested  the  gentlemanly  clerk  to 
accompany  Myers,  and  listen  to  what  would  pass  during 
a  short  conversation.  Wilson  waited  calmly,  and  pres 
ently  the  two  individuals  approached. 

"  Mr.  John  B.  Myers,"  said  Wilson  sarcastically,  and 
yet  authoritatively,  "  got  a  trunk  in  your  room,  in  num 
ber  23  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  he  said,  much  agitated. 

"  Got  a  carpet-bag,  or  a  sack  of  any  kind  ?  " 

"  What  business  is  that  to  you  ?  "  asked  Myers,  sav 
agely  and  brusquely. 

Wilson  fixed  his  steady,  dilating  black  eyes  upon  the 
villain,  then  slowly  raising  his  fore-finger,  with  a  signifi 
cant  motion  and  warning  gesture,  he  said — "  Hark,  sir  ! 
Captain  Nelson's  murderous  plans  can't  be  carried  out  in 
this  hotel.  Now,  sir,  if  you  want  to  keep  out  of  State- 
prison  a  few  weeks  longer,  follow  my  advice:  leave 
this  city  within  two  hours ;  and  mark,  Dick  Lindsay !  as 
you  value  your  life,  keep  away  from  New- York.  Dragon ! 
I  know  you." 

At  this  unexpected  mention  of  his  real  name  the  fellow 
quailed  and  trembled  with  deadly  fear.  And  what 
alarmed  him  still  more  was  the* secret  password  "  drag 
on,"  which  for  years  was  used  among  the  "  devils,"  in 
their  subterranean  "hell"  on  Long  Island.  Wilson's 
tall,  commanding  form  overshadowed  him,  and  so  par 
alyzed  his  "will  that  he  could  hardly  move  a  muscle. 
"  March ! "  said  the  authoritative  voice  of  the  young 
detective;  and  on  the  instant  the  terrified  robber  fled 
out  into  the  fearful  blackness  of  that  stormy  night. 

Thus  was  begun  the  dreaded  labor  of  reaping  and  de- 


232  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

stroying  the  fruits  of  the  trees  of  evil.  And  we  hnve  the 
blessed  assurance  that  in  all  works  of  this  nature  the 
angels  of  heaven  are  ever  present  to  cheer,  to  counsel, 
to  strengthen,  to  purify,  and  to  save. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  The  waves  of  fiery  darkness  'gainst  the  rocks 
Of  dark  damnation  broke,  and  music  made 
Of  melancholy  sort." — Pollok. 

DETECTIVE  WILSOX  and  Doctor  Du  Bois  locked  and 
bolted  themselves  into  their  comfortable  office.  The 
world  was  now  shut  out,  and  they  were  safe.  Immediately 
they  commenced  a  conference  concerning  the  existence  of 
social  destructive  elements  and  secret  criminal  organiza 
tions.  The  philosophical  physician  very  naturally  wished 
to  sound  the  young  man  on  these  topics ;  and,  if  necessary, 
he  meant  to  endeavor  to  convert  him  to  principles  of  jus 
tice,  virtue,  righteousness,  and  loving-kindness. 

"  Fred,"  began  the  doctor,  in  a  social  and  confidential 
voice,  "  what  is  the  cause,  think  you,  of  so  many  bur 
glaries  and  inexplicable  murders  in  New- York  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Freelf  "  there  are  organized  bands  of 
burglars  and  assassins  in  the  very  heart  of  this  city." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so,  my  young  man  ?" 

"  Don't  think  any  thing  about  it,  sir ;  I  know  it." 

"  Know  it !"  echoed  the  doctor  in  an  undertone  of  sur 
prise.  "  How  came  you  to  know  it,  Fred  ?" 

The  question  startled  and  uncontrollably  excited  Wil 
son's  nerves  for  a  moment.  But  with  firmness  and 
such  assurance,  he  replied,  "  Robbers,  counterfeiters, 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  233 

and  assassins,  sir,  can't  carry  their  tools  and  concealed 
weapons,  and  commit  their  boldest  crimes  upon  peace 
ful  and  law-abiding  citizens,  and  then  get  away  from 
the  police,  and  keep  out  of  way  of  all  authorities,  unless 
they  train  each  other  and  associate  themselves  together, 
and  thus  form  bands  for  mutual  aid  and  protection." 

"  Ah,  very  well,"  said  the  doctor.  "  But,  Fred,"  he 
continued,  "  what  is  the  cause  of  such  men  forming  them 
selves  into  companies  antagonistic  to  the  lives  and  pro 
perty  of  good  men  ?  " 

"  Humph,"  grumbled  Fred,  "  such  men  justify  them 
selves." 

"  What  do  I  hear  ?"  Hurriedly  asked  the  doctor 
"  What  do  you  say,  Fred — that  thieves,  ruffians,  rob 
bers,  murderers,  and  lawless  characters  generally,  jus 
tify  themselves  in  the  commission  of  their  cowardly  and 
bloody  deeds  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Fred  firmly — "  they  do  !  And 
this  way  they  do  it :  The  chieftain  makes  a  speech  be 
fore  his  crew  of  stinking  devils,  and  says,  '  A  king,  when 
he  wants  more  kingdom,  raises  an  army  of  murderers 
and  marches  them  into  a  peaceable  country.  He  don't 
skulk  about  with  his  men  and  keep  shady  till  after  mid 
night,  as  we  poor  devils  are  obliged  to  do,  and  why  ? 
Because  his  men  outmember  ours  at  least  an  hundred 
thousand  to  one  of  us.  Now,  devils  !  we  want  not  land 
but  money  and  jewelry.  We  Organize  to  do  what  the 
great  kings  do  under  a  like  motive.  But  we  are  weak 
in  numbers,  and  must  do  our  work  in  the  dark.  We 
kill  only  one  or  two  to  get  property,  while  the  powerful 
kings  kill thousand — " 

"  Fred !"  exclaimed  the  doctor  vehemently — "  Fred," 
you  astound  me.  Great  God !  Do  robbers  and  assas 
sins  justify  themselves  ?" 

"  Certainly,,  doctor,"  replied  the  detective ;  "  and  this 


234  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

is  how  they  do  it.  The  captain  makes  a  speech  to  his 
devils,  and  says  :  '  A  New- York  merchant  has  a  moun 
tain  of  money.  He  didn't  honestly  make  that  mountain. 
He  tricked  it  all  out  of  the  pockets  of  folks  who  trade 
in  his  store.  We  devils  want  a  mountain  of  our  own. 
But  we  an't  mean.  So  we  won't  trick  the  poor  folks,  as 
the  bankers  and  the  tradesmen  do,  every  how,  but  we'll 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  and  trick  the  old  big-bellied  cove 
what  owns  the  mountain." 

Astonishment  seemed  to  overwhelm  Doctor  Du 
Bois.  The  young  detective's  revelations  of  a  robber's 
theory  of  justification  surpassed  any  thing  he  had  ever 
heard.  Upon  those  topics,  however,  he  resolved  to  start 
no  new  questions  at  present,  but  asked :  "  These  cha 
racters  must  be  known  to  the  police.  Now,  Fred,  why 
are  they  not  caught  and  brought  to  justice  ?" 

"  Oh !  that  is  easily  answered,  sir,"  said  Wilson.  "  The 
fact  is,  sir,  there  exists  an  official  or  a  political  conflict 
between  the  judges  and  the  policemen,  and  the  organized 
criminals  know  all  about  it." 

"  What  conflict  do  you  refer  to  ?"  the  doctor  inquired. 

"  The  Judges,  sir,  belong  to  one  party,  and  the  Police 
to  another;  between  the  two,  all  crimes  in  the  city  are 
committed,  and  the  head-devils  are  permitted  to  escape 
arrest." 

"  A  serious  charge,  Fred — a  very  serious  charge  in 
deed,"  said  the  doctor.  "  What  further  can  you  state 
about  it  ?" 

Detective  Wilson  answered :  "  A  policeman,  sir,  does 
not  want  to  make  an  enemy  for  his  political  party; 
neither  does  he  wish  to  make  an  enemy  for  himself  per 
sonally.  A  great  city  like  New- York,  sir,  is  governed 
by  men  who  obtain  their  offices  by  the  votes  of  hosts  of 
ignorant  citizens  and  criminal  characters.  A  Judge 
often  gains  political  power  by  siding  with  and  discharg- 


HEAPING  THE   FEUITS  OF  CRIME.  235 

ing  from  custody  the  characters  who  helped  to  elect  him 
— the  ignorant  citizens  and  the  robbers  and  assassins ; 
while  the  Police  force  on  the  other  hand,  by  which  the 
ruffians  were  arrested  and  brought  before  the  courts,  has 
made  for  itself,  and  also  for  the  policemen  individually, 
as  many  dangerous  and  formidable  enemies.  So  long, 
sir,  as  there  shall  exist  this  political  antagonism  between 
the  Judiciary  and  the  Police,  so  long  will  thieves  and 
assassins  flourish  in  this  great  city  and  continue  to  escape 
punishment." 

A  protracted  pause  ensued.  The  first  to  break  the  si 
lence  was  Doctor  Du  Bois  :  "  Fred,  do  youknow  Captain 
Nelson  ?" 

Wilson  involuntarily  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  He 
qiiickly  covered  his  face  with  his  hand  to  conceal  the 
sudden  paleness  of  his  features.  Then,  in  a  tremulous, 
half-petulant  voice,  he  replied — "  Perhaps  I  do,  sir." 

This  remarkable  manifestation  of  nervous  excitement 
in  the  young  man  did  not  escape  the  observant,  practiced 
eye  of  the  physician.  Appearing,  however,  not  to  have 
perceived  the  agitation,  he  asked — "  Do  you  regard  him 
as  an  honest  and  efficient  member  of  the  detective  ser 
vice  ?" 

"  Sir,"  hurriedly  and  fiercely  said  "Wilson,  with  a  per 
fect  torrent  of  indignation — "  Sir,  Nelson  should  have 
his  arms  tied  behind  his  back  and  be  forced  to  walk 
the  plank.  An  executioner  should  fasten  a  cord  of 
strong  hemp  around  his  cursed  neck.  Then,  sir,  without 
the  prayers  of  a  father  confessor,  he  should  be  compelled 
to  weigh  anchor  and  sail  straight  to  hell." 

"  A  terrible  fate ! "  said  the    doctor,  with  a  tone  of 

disapprobation  and  commiseration.     "Fred,"  he  added, 

"  a  bloody  reign  will  begin  when  you  become  supreme 

judge!" 

Wilson  mui'mured   angrily   between   his   teeth,   but 


236  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

made  no  reply.  He  seemed  lost  in  thought,  and  ab 
stractedly  drew  a  long-bladed  knife  from  his  pocket. 
While  so  absorbed,  he  quietly  wiped  the  bright  steel 
blade  carefully  on  the  corner  of  his  red  bandanna  hand 
kerchief,  sharpened  it  a  little  on  his  boot,  then  sudden 
ly  but  still  abstractedly  shut  the  formidable  weapon, 
and  returned  it  to  its  own  place.  All  the  time,  seemiugly, 
he  was  lost — sadly,  angrily,  tumultuously  lost — in  the 
dark  recesses  of  painful  retrospective  thought. 

"  Fred,"  interrupted  the  doctor,  taking  from  his  pock 
et  a  bright  button  attached  to  a  piece  of  woolen  cloth, 
which  had  evidently  been  torn  in  haste  from  a  coat  or 
sailor's  jacket,  and  extending  it  toward  the  young  de 
tective — "Fred,  that  was  found  near  the  murdered  body 
of  Miss  Bridgston,  some  three  years  ago.  A  poor  sail 
or,  named  McRiggy,  was  tried,  convicted,  and  hung  for 
the  murder.  In  my  opinion,  Fred,  Captain  Nelson 
knows  more  about  that  terrible  deed  than  any  other  liv 
ing  man.  You  may  take  this  little  piece  of  evidence, 
and  see  if  you  can  link  it  into  the  clothes  of  that  remark 
able  policeman.  Take  your  own  time,  and  your  own 
method,  Fred;  and  remember  this:  Do  nothing  that 
will  publicly  compromise,  or  in  any  degree  involve  in 
unnecessary  trouble  either  yourself  or  me." 

Wilson's  black  eyes  dilated  and  glowed  and  glittered, 
and  actually  seemed  to  dance  with  a  Wild,  savage,  tri 
umphant  delight.  He,  however,  politely  took  from  the 
physician's  hand  the  button  and  cloth;  put  the  little 
"job"  carefully  away  in  the  side-pocket  of  his  vest, 
silently  bowed,  and  pleasantly  smiled  his  glad  accept 
ance  of  the  important  mission. 


REAPING  >HE   FRUITS 'OF   CRIME.  237 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Oh !  welcome,  pure-eyed  Faith,  white-handed  Hope, 
Thou  hovering  angel,  girt  with  golden  wings, 
And  thou  unblemished  form  of  Chastity !" — Champion. 

Miss  PHCEBE  MILTON,  who,  as  the  reader  remembers,  is 
Lawyer  Ruggleston's  wife's  unmarried  sister,  at  last 
made  up  her  mind  to  act  upon  the  suggestion  of  the  dis 
tinguished  French  physician ;  who  is  now  vigorously 
operating  as  a  self-appointed  and  self-salaried  New- York 
detective,  in  the  cause  of  justice  and  the  science  of  hu 
man  impi-ovement.  The  reader  can  not  but  sympathize 
with  the  feelings  of  delicacy  and  reluctance  which  for 
weeks  kept  Mrs.  Ruggleston's  sister  from  the  desired 
investigation. 

At  length,  however,  a  letter  was  carefully  prepared 
and  written  by  Miss  Milton,  purporting  to  be  an  appli 
cation  for  ti'eatment  from  a  Miss  Laura  Brookfield,  of 
Baltimore.,  Md,  and  addressed  to  "Madam  La  Stelle, 

No.  — ,  street,   New- York."     Although  several 

weeks  before  the  time  specified  for  confinement,  yet 
Miss  Brookfield  said  in  her  letter  that  she  wished  to  make 
all  suitable  preparations  as  early  and  as  secretly  as  pos 
sible  ;  wanted  to  engage  a  first-class  room  in  Madam's 
renowned  establishment,  and  begged  the  privilege  of 
having  one  or  more  female  servants  at  her  command,  if 
necessary.  The  amount  of  compensation  demanded  was 
of  no  moment,  as  her  means  were  ample. 

Madam  La  Stelle's  reply  was  prompt  and  satisfactory. 
A  room  was  immediately  made  ready  for  Miss  Brook- 
field,  and  she  was  informed  that  she  might  enter  the  es- 


238  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

tablishment  as  a  boarder  and  prospective  patient  at  once, 
if  she  so  wished. 

One  evening,  therefore,  soon  after  this  correspondence, 
the  Baltimore  patient  arrived.  She  paid  the  coachman, 
in  the  presence  of  the  lady  doctress,  for  her  ride  from  the 
wharf.  A  small  black  trunk  was  deposited  in  the  hall, 
as  Miss  Brookfield's  only  piece  of  baggage,  and  then 
the  coachman  disappeared. 

All  these  little  devices,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
correspondence  which  was  invariably  mailed  from  Balti 
more,  completely  covered  up  the  fact  that  the  patient 
was  a  citizen  of  New- York. 

"Miss  Brookfield's  baggage  is  limited,"  said  the 
shrewd,  quick-sighted,  prompt,  and  business-like  doc- 
tress. 

The  reader  will  recall  Lawyer  Ruggleston's  brief  de 
scription  of  Miss  Milton's  mental  characteristics  and 
large  societai-y  experience.  She  was  naturally  a  public- 
spirited  and  very  capable  woman.  Promptly  and 
cordially,  therefore,  and  without  the  least  show  of  em 
barrassment,  she  replied : 

"True,  madam,  but  as  I  have  friends  in  this  city, 
with  whom  I  shall  spend  most  of  my  time  during  my 
stay  with  you,  my  wardrobe  can  at  any  time  be  replen 
ished  sufficiently  to  meet  all  my  necessities." 

Miss  Milton  occupied  herself,  reading  and  sewing  in 
her  very  pleasant  room,  during  three  successive  days. 
She  had  her  meals  brought  to  her,  was  careful  not  to 
attract  observation ;  and  kept  herself,  as  far  as  practi 
cable,  isolated  and  unknown.  On  the  evening  of  the 
third  day,  Madam  La  Stelle  called  for  the  first  time 
upon  her  Baltimore  patient.  As  soon  as  she  had  seated 
herself  for  a  conversation,  Miss  Milton  immediately  al 
luded  to  the  financial  question,  and  begged  to  be  permit 
ted  to  advance  one  hundred  dollars  on  account  of  board 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  239 

and  prospective  treatment.  This  entirely  novel  and 
original  proposition  so  astonished  and  overdelighted 
the  susceptible  madam,  that  she  had  not  a  particle  of 
strength  wherewith  to  decline  the  acceptance  of  so  large 
a  sum.  She  became  suddenly  warm-hearted,  and  was 
inclined  to  take  a  very  deep  interest  in  her  Baltimore 
patient. 

"  Many  fine  ladies  who  come  to  me  for  treatment,"  she 
said, "  appear  feeble  and  anxious.  But,  Miss  Brookfield," 
she  added,  smiling  admiringly,  "  you  look  young  and  as 
fresh  as  a  maiden." 

Miss  Phoebe  Milton's  intuitive  knowledge  of  character 
helped  her  to  see  through  this  flattering  compliment. 
But  her  purpose  was  to  lead  the  celebrated  abortionist 
into  pleasant  confidences  concerning  the  causes  which 
led  her  to  adopt  a  profession  so  fearfully  at  variance 
with  all  the  sacred  ties  of  nature.  Therefore,  she  mod 
estly  drooped  her  head,  and  made  an  effort  to,  blush. 
Then  she  sighed  pathetically,  and  said, 

"  Ah,  madam !  I  fear  that  I  am  but  a  poor  remnant 
of  beauty.  I  have  seen  much  trouble  in  my  time." 

Madam  La  Stelle,  not  stopping  to  notice  that  there  is 
a  world-wide  difference  between  seeing  trouble  and  ex 
periencing  trouble,  said  sympathizingly,  but  energetical 
ly,  "  Been  led,  undoubtedly,  into  your  trouble  by  some 
heartless  villain  ?" 

Miss  Milton  sighed  heavily,  and  hid  her  face  in  her 
handkerchief.  Thus  she  concealed  her  real  confusion. 

Madam's  heart  was  really  touched  with  affectionate 
sympathy.  "  Better  get  rid  of  your  trouble  at  once," 
said  she  kindly;  "then,  dear,  you  will  be  as  free  as  the 
villain  who  misled  you." 

Miss  Milton  inwardly  thanked  God  that  the  very  heart 
of  the  object  of  her  delicate  mission  was  thus  so  soon 
reached,  and  so  agreeably  unfolded  by  the  renowned 


240  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

abortionist  herself.  Aud  yet  she  trembled  with  veritable 
anxiety,  lest  the  thread  of  the  discourse  would  be  by 
some  mishap  broken,  or  hopelessly  interrupted.  How 
to  feed  the  fire  of  confidental  conversation  without  ap 
pearing  to,  and  how  also  to  elicit  answers  to  the  essential 
questions,  without  appearing  to  ask  those  questions,  ex. 
ceedingly  puzzled  even  Miss  Milton's  cultivated  and 
quick-sighted  intellect. 

Again  she  undertook  to  blush.  After  considerable 
hesitation,  she  lowered  her  voice  almost  to  a  whisper, 
and  asked,  "  Madam,  pray  tell  me  how  am  I  to  get  rid 
of  my  trouble  ?" 

"  When's  your  time  for  confinement  ?"  she  inquired. 

The  patient  signified  that  perhaps  four  months  hence. 
"  Oh !  then,"  said  the  doctress,  "  as  your  health  is  sound, 
take  my  treatment  immediately,  and  thus  without  risk 
make  yourself  free." 

"Oh I  no,  no!"  exclaimed  the 'patient,  agonizingly. 
"  Nature  must  not  be  balked.  It  is  dreadfully  wrong, 
madam ;  it  must  be  very,  very  wicked." 

"  Pshaw !"  said  she  disdainfully,  "  what  matchless  sim 
pletons  we  women  are !" 

"O  dear  Madam  La  Stelle,"  nervously  replied  Miss 
Milton,  "pray  don't  be  angry  with  me.  I  am  dread 
fully  alarmed." 

"  No,  dear,  not  for  the  world  would  I  be  angry  with 
yon,"  said  she.  "  But  wromen  do  so  dreadfully  try  my 
patience." 

"  In  what  respect,  madam  ?"  she  timidly  asked. 

"  Because  they  so  easily  go  astray,  and  so  frequently 
get  themselves  into  trouble ;  and  then  they  have  so 
many  dreadful  qualms  of  conscience — are  so  feeble 
minded  and  so  self-reproachful — that  the  graceless 
profligates  make  all  sorts  of  fun  of  them — and  well  they 
may !" 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS    OF   CRIME.  241 

"Do  you  give  such  treatment  to  all  who  come  into 
yonr  establishment  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,  dear,"  she  quickly  replied.  "  Patients  take 
their  choice.  Some  choose  'Still  and  Lost,'  others 
'  Live  and  Found.'  And  my  treatment  and  charges  cor 
respond.  But  if  girls  and  married  women  take  my 
advice  they  wouldn't  have  a  child  until  they  really  and 
sincerely  wished  for  one." 

"  Why,  madam !"  exclaimed  Miss  Milton  with  a 
genuine  and  moral  surprise,  "  do  you  really  and  truly 
justify  abortion  and  infanticide?" 

"  I  wouldn't  be  a  single  hour  in  this  establishment  if  I 
didn't,"  she  rejoined  with  hard  and  bitter  emphasis. 

"  Merciful  heavens !"  said  the  inquisitive  patient. 
"  Pray,  madam,  tell  me  why  are  you  in  this  disreputa 
ble  business  ?"  (She  was  about  to  add  other  words,  such 
as  "  atrocious,"  "scandalous,"  "  criminal,"  and  "  satanic," 
but  her  discretion  saved  her  from  offending  the  plain- 
spoken  doctress.) 

"  Many  years  ago,  dear  Miss  Brookfield,"  began  the 
abortionist,  "  my  drunken  and  brutal  husband  forced  me 
to  have  children.  Under  the  rapes  of  that  drunken  villain 
— I  say  '  rapes,'  dear,  because  I  hold  that  all  intercourse 
between  the  sexes  when  not  mutual,  whether  in  or  out 
of  marriage,  are  rapes  and  adulteries  and  nothing  else. 
Well,  dear,  those  rapes  compelled  me  to  bring  into  the 
Avorld  three  feeble,  deformed,  and  half  imbecile  chil 
dren." 

"  God  gives  and  God  takes  away,"  suggested   Miss . 
Milton  ;  which,  in  fact,  was  her  genuine  sentiment,  for 
she  was  a  through-going  member  of  the  Orthodox  Church. 

"  Oh    pshaw !"    irreverently     said    madam,    "  what 
egregious  nonsense  !  Oh,  women  are  so  dreadfully  silly  ! 
As  if  God  sent  miserable  children  to  me  through  the 
11 


242  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

rapes  of  a  drunken  beast  of  a  husband !  Pshaw  !  what 
lamb-like,  silly  nonsense  !" 

"  O  madam !  your  expressions  frighten  me  awfully," 
said  Miss  Milton. 

"O  pshaw!"  she  replied  impatiently,  "just  hear  me 
through." 

The  amiable  patient  assured  her  that  she  would  listen. 
Whereupon  madam  continued : 

"  One  day  my  mind  was  made  up.  My  position  in 
society  was  unexceptionable.  I  said,  '  I  don't  want  to 
lose  caste,  or  impoverish  myself,  by  leaving  my  hus 
band.'  He  held  the  abundant  purse,  and  was  in  all 
things  my  master.  Then,  as  the  next  thing,  I  resolved 
to  keep  my  trouble  to  myself,  appear  cheerful  and  agree 
able  in  society,  but  rid  myself  of  every  thing  that  re 
sulted  from  the  sensuality  of  my  hated  legal  lord." 

"  Did  you  keep  your  resolution  ?"  asked  the  attentive 
Miss  Milton. 

"  Oh  !  yes,  indeed !"  she  quickly  replied.  "  And  what's 
more,  I  helped  other  ladies  of  my  acquaintance  to  free 
themselves  from  like  incumbrances.  When  my  hus 
band  died,  and  our  property  was  all  sold  to  pay  his 
debts  of  intemperance  and  for  years  of  beastly  debauch 
eries,  my  mind  was  made  up  again." 

"  What  did  you  do  ?"  anxiously  asked  the  patient. 

"  This  grand  establishment  is  my  answer."  And  im 
mediately  she  added,  "  My  doctrine  is  that  girls  should 
be  as  free  as  the  villains  who  betray  them.  And  what  is 
more,  dear,  I  don't  believe  it  is  any  more  right  for  a 
woman  to  have  an  unwelcome  child  than  it  is  for  a  man 
to  force  one  upon  her.  And  I  mean  to  do  my  best,  if  the 
dear  unfortunates  will  only  pay  me  roundly  for  the 
risk  I  am  continually  taking  of  being  convicted  and  sent 
to  the  penitentiary  for  life — do  my  best  to  create  more 
equality  between  men  and  women  in  the  sexual  relation." 


EEAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  243 

"Madam  LaStelle!"  said  Miss  Milton,  "your  senti 
ments  positively  shock  me." 

"  O  pshaw  !"  she  murmured  with  a  contemptuous  em 
phasis.  "  Women  are  such  silly  things  !  Let  them 
suffer  as  much  as  I  have.  Suffering  will  open  their 
eyes,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  they  then  will  see  two 
inches  beyond  their  silly  notions." 

"Don't  you  love  children?"  asked  the  patient.  "I 
don't  understand  how  you  can  possibly  find  the  heart  to 
prevent  one  from  being  born." 

"  Do  I  love  children  !  "  exclaimed  she.  "  Of  course  I 
do — or,  rather,  perhaps  I  should  say  that  I  used  to  ! 
But  since  the  death  of  those  three  miserable  idiotic  imps 
and  images  of  a  drunken  brute,  I  see  nothing  in  child 
ren  to  love ;  that  is,  I  mean  nothing  in  such  young  ones 
as  come  in  opposition  to  all  the  best  feelings  and  contra 
ry  to  all  the  prayers  of  the  mother." 

"But,  madam,"  asked  Miss  Milton,  "  is  it  not  im 
possible  for  a  true  and  virtuous  woman  to  wish  to  destroy 
her  unborn  child  ?" 

"Impossible?"  she  retm*ned  with  sharp  emphasis. 
"  O  pshaw  !  how  preposterous  !  What  consummate 
sentimental  simpletons  all  inexperienced  young  ladies 
are !  Why,  dear  Miss  Brookfield,  if  you  had  ever 
had  any  real  trouble  of  this  nature,  you  wouldn't  ask  me 
a  question  so  everlastingly  foolish !" 

"Perhaps  not!"  said  Miss  Milton,  with  a  successful 
show  of  being  highly  offended. 

Suddenly  a  house-servant  tapped  at  the  door  and 
called  for  madam.  She  arose,  with  calmness  and  dig 
nity,  patted  the  pretended  patient  kindly  on  the  cheek, 
and  went  directly  out;  thus  leaving  the  half  over 
whelmed  lady-detective  to  her  own  cherished  feelings 
and  reflections. 

Very   early  next  morning  she  hurriedly  packed   her 


244  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

trunks,  ordered  a  carriage,  and  without  waiting  to  see 
madam,  hastened  like  an  affrighted  bird  to  the  resi 
dence  of  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"Mv  will  fulfilled  shall  be, 

For,  in  daylight  or  in  dark, 
My  thunderbolt  has  eyes  to  see 

His  way  home  to  the  mark." — Emerson. 

WE  return  to  Doctor  Du  Bois  and  his  agreeable  detec 
tive,  Fred  Wilson. 

It  was  long  past  the  midnight  hour  when  they  sepa 
rated  to  gain  some  rest  and  sleep.  Wilson's  bed  was 
situated  in  an  appropriate  recess  at  the  farther  end  of 
the  office.  The  doctor's  sleeping  apartment  was  in  an 
adjoining  room  connected  with  the  office  by  a  door ;  so 
that  each  had  quite  an  easy  access  to  the  other's  room 
without  first  going  into  the  outer  hall,  which  is  customary 
in  most"  hotels  where  a  large  number  of  single  bedrooms 
are  in  constant  demand. 

The  physician's  mind  was,  however,  too  excited  for 
sleep.  His  thoughts  busied  themselves  in  reviewing  the 
unexpected  occurrences  of  the  night.  He  reflected  and 
speculated  upon  the  probable  prolongation  of  his  life  in 
consequence  of  the  notes  of  warning  brought  by  that 
drunken  Jersey  fisherman  from  Shark  river.  With 
amazing  rapidity  his  thoughts  traversed  the  sphere  of 
departed  and  existing  circumstances  by  which  all  the 
curious  and  exciting  events  had  been  made  both  possible 
and  actual.  By  regular  degrees  of  reflection  he  arrived 
at  recollections  of  the  strange  mood  and  surprising  acts 
of  his  assistant  detective  when  the  name  of  Captain  Xel- 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  245 

son  was  mentioned.  The  doctor  did  not  altogether  like 
young  Wilson's  uncontrollable  and  dangerous  symptoms 
of  murderous  excitement. 

"  What !"  said  the  doctor  to  himself,  "  can  it  be  possi 
ble  that  this  young  sailor  has  in  his  feelings  some  ani 
mosity  toward  Captain  Nelson  ?" 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  stealthy  footfalls  reached  his 
ear.  They  came  from  the  office,  and  from  feet  not  clad 
with  anything  heavier  than  stockings.  He  listened 
breathlessly,  and  waited  long  for  a  repetition  of  the  start 
ling  sounds.  All  was  still  as  a  graveyard.  For  at  that 
early  morning  hour  even  the  inmates  of  a  New- York 
hotel  are  lost  in  the  semi-death  trance  of  profound  slum 
ber.  The  shadowy  suggestions  of  a  supernatural  exis 
tence,  at  such  an  hour,  frequently  mingle  with  the 
dreams  of  the  peaceful  sleepers. 

Again  the  sound  of  rapidly  moving  feet  in  the  office. 
Instantly  the  doctor  imagined  the  possibility  that,  not 
withstanding  their  precautions  of  bolting  and  firmly 
locking  the  door,  the  burglar  and  would-be-murderer 
might  be  at  that  very  moment  committing  his  nefarious 
depredations.  But  this  supposition  the  doctor  immedi 
ately  and  willfully  banished  from  his  thoughts.  It  was 
particularly  absurd,  because  the  ceaseless  vigilance  of 
young  Wilson's  lightning-quick  black  eyes  would  detect 
the  presence  of  the  robber  and  assassin.  To  the  doctor 
the  eyes  of  his  assistant  never  seemed  to  sleep.  But  a 
more  frightful  imagination  instantly  succeeded  and 
eclipsed  the  other,  and  started  a  new  train  of  the  most 
fearful  reflections. 

"  Who  is  this  strange,  nervous,  melancholy  young 
sailor— this  Fred  Wilson?"  the  physician  asked  himself. 
"  Have  I  not  relied  too  confidently  and  implicitly  on  my 
own  judgment  of  human  character?"  Rapidly  he  re 
viewed  all  the  peculiar  circumstances  and  confidential 


216  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

conversations  which  had  brought  them  so  intimately  to 
gether.  Then  the  doctor  recalled,  with  blood-chilling 
minuteness,  the  knife-sharpening  process,  and  instantly 
connected  the  act  with  all  the  other  subsequent  "attitudes 
and  menacing  gesticulations  of  young  Wilson ;  and 
then  he  thought — "  What  if  Fred,  who  seems  to  know  so 
much  about  the  personal  habits  and  mental  justifications 
of  criminals,  is  himself  an  assassin  and  a  robber  in  dis 
guise  !" 

With  this  terrible  and  not  wholly  irrational  imagina 
tion  operating  as  a  motive  for  prompt  action,  Doctor  Du 
Bois  hastily  prepared  himself,  lit  his  private  metallic 
night-lamp,  and  cautiously  opened  the  office-door  and 
entered. 

No  other  light,  no  other  person,  was  anywhere  visi 
ble  ;  and  no  sound,  save  the  heavy  breathing  of  young 
Wilson.  To  his  experienced  medical  ear,  however,  that 
breathing  was  decidedly  unnatural. 

Noiselessly  the  physician  approached  the  bed  and 
turned  his  light  full  upon  the  young  man's  countenance. 
It  presented  a  remarkably  fine  and  yet  startling  appear 
ance.  His  features  were  fixed  and  pale  as  death.  His 
black,  curly,  and  abundant  hair  was  accidentally  dis 
posed  in  beautiful  and  graceful  clusters  on  the  snow- 
white  pillow,  and  his  wavy  beard  looked  like  the  mane 
of  the  majestic  lion  as  it  rested  upon  his  heavily-laboring 
bosom. 

Why  did  the  p  hysician  uddenly  exclaim  "  My  God  "  ? 
Because  the  young  man  was  apparently  on  the  verge  of 
apoplexy  ?  No !  Because  of  the  beauty  and  majesty  of 
the  sleeping  detective  ?  No !  Why,  then,  did  he  repeat, 
"  My  God,"  and  ask  aloud,  "  can  it  be  possible  "?  Here 
is  the  answer  :  Because,  with  the  swiftness  of  the  photo 
graphic  impression,  the  physician's  eye  saw  in  the  pros 
trate  form  and  lovely  pale  face  before  him  a  wonderful 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  247 

likeness.  On  the  wings  of r  the  spirit-lightning  *  his 
thoughts  flew  back  to  his  patient  of  years  ago — the 
image  of  that  divinity  which  had  so  long  lived  in  his 
faithful  heart  and  swayed  his  destiny — the  adorable 
Sophia  del  Aragoni  of  New-Orleans  ! 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"  STRANGE  World,  with  its  pliantasmic  show  ; 

Deceitful  in  its  beams ; 
A  world  of  happiness  and  woe, 
Reality — and  dreams." — Tuttle. 

THE  young  man's  unnatural  and  helpless  physical  con 
dition  demanded  immediate  medical  attention.  Doctor 
Du  Bbis,  therefore,  diagnosticated  the  symptoms  and 
found  them  to  be  those  of  catalepsia  ;  which,  according 
to  the  medical  authorities,  consists  of  a  total  suspension 
of  sensibility  and  voluntary  motion,  and  generally,  also  of 
mental  power ;  the  pulsation  of  the  heart  and  the  breath 
ing  continuing,  the  muscles  remaining  flexible,  the  body 
yielding  to  and  retaining  any  given  position,  in  which 
respect  it  differs  chiefly  from  ecstasy.  This  condition 
sometimes  lasts  from  a  few  hours  to  several  days. 

But  while  examining  the  patient,  and  moving  his  hands 
and  limbs  about  in  order  to  restore  normal  circulation,  the 
doctor  observed  a  rapid  change  or  rather  transfer  of 
symptoms.  According  to  the  physiologists,  Wilson's 
state  would  now  be  denominated  ecstasy ;  which,  it  is 
said,  also  consists  of  a  total  suspension  of  sensibility  and 
voluntary  motion,  and  mostly  of  mental  power  ;  while 
the  muscles  are  rigid,  the  body  erect  and  inflexible ;  the 
pulsation  of  the  heart  is  felt,  and  the  breathing  not 
affected.  The  exciting  cause  of  this  disease  is  generally 


248  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

supposed  to  be  some  mental  affection.  It  differs  from 
catalepsy  and  trance  in  the  inflexible  and  rigid  state  of  the 
muscles,  and  the  obvious  continuance  of  the  breathing 
and  the  heart's  action. 

And  yet,  notwithstanding  the  unmistakable  presence 
of  cataleptic  and  ecstatical  symptoms,  the  magnetically- 
minded  physician  decided  that  young  Wilson's  state  of 
unconsciousness  was  perfectly  normal.  His  philosophy 
was  this :  that  the  condition  of  trance  is  simply  a  natural 
state  to  the  soul,  intellect,  or  spirit — a  waking  life  to  the 
mind's  finer  senses — when  the  external  avenues  of  sen 
sation  are  closed,  and  when  the  spiritual  feelings  are 
measurably  emancipated  from  their  customary  corporeal 
imprisonment. 

The  doctor  instantly  recalled  analogous  cases  he  had 
met  in  his  extensive  readings.  In  the  eighth  volume  of 

o  o 

the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of  Edinburgh 
he  had  read  the  case  of  Mary  Lyall,  who  slept  a  contin 
uous  slumber  of  nearly  six  weeks,  and  yet  who,  on  being 
fully  restored  to  her  ordinary  consciousness,  believed 
and  declared  that  her  sleep  had  been  not  longer  than  one 
night  in  duration. 

"  Strange  mind !"  said  the  doctor  to  himself,  contem 
platively  :  "  what  priceless  prescience  in  thy  intuitions ! 
How  quickly  before  thee  does  all  earth  fade  away,  and 
how  soon  it  ceases  to  feed  and  inflame  thy  desires  and 
passions  !  How  the  shadows  of  impending  events  flit 
across  thy  sleepless  vision.  Immediately  thou  enterest 
the  penetralia  of  truth.  Future  occurrences  mingle 
freely  with  thy  present  consciousness;  and  these  percep 
tions  excite  not  the  least  anxiety  or  surprise  in  thee ; 
because  time  and  space  vanish  like  errors  in  th  y  God 
like  omnipresence.  Strange  sleep  !  which  rolls  the  re 
straining  earth  away  from  spirit  into  space,  and  brings 


EE APING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  249 

• 

hope  and  happiness  and  thoughts  teeming  with  wisdom 
from  realms  of  immortality." 

These  metaphysical  thoughts,  and  fine  feelings  far  too 
sacred  for  expression,  occupied  the  physician's  mind; 
while,  with  his  hands,  he  continued  to  magnetically  treat 
the  unconscious  Fred  Wilson.  The  rigid  symptoms 
soon  yielded  and  gradually  vanished^and  a  state  of  com 
fortable  muscular  flexibility  was  restored.  Pulsations 
and  respirations  resumed  natural  conditions.  The  ex 
pression  of  the  countenance  indicated  a  return  of  ordi 
nary  sensibility. 

"  My  dear  young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  with  heartfelt 
sympathy  in  his  deep,  sweet  voice,  "  can  you  answer  me 
a  few  questions  ?" 

For  a  time  the  young  detective  gave  no  sign  of  men 
tal  consciousness. 

Still,  however,  the  magnetic  hands  moved  with  in 
creasing  power  through  the  air  over  the  patient,  and 
again  the  question,  "  Wilson !  can  you  hear  my  voice  ?" 

Only  a  shudder  and  a  long-drawn  sigh  in  response. 

"  Come,  Fred  !"  said  the  doctor,  with  some  sound  of 
authority  in  his  voice — "  Do  you  realize  where  you  are  ?" 

Silence  for  a  few  moments.  Then  groans  and  moans 
escaped  his  parted  lips,  which  looked  pale  and  incapable 
of  speech.  Suddenly  the  patient  relapsed,  and  the  symp 
toms  of  catalepsia  again  supervened.  The  doctor  then 
administered  a  homeopathic  remedy,  and  for  a  time  left 
him  to  his  seemingly  painless  and  tranquil  condition. 

Having  dressed  and  prepared  himself  for  breakfast — 
for  the  day  had  long  since  dawned — Doctor  Du  Bois 
went  to  his  desk  to  write  a  note  to  his  friend  Lawyer 
Ruggleston.  Immediately  he  noticed  a  sheet  of  paper  on 
which  some  one  had  recently  written  these  words — 

"  Save  my  son  from  crime !  lie  is  now  in  your 
power!"  n* 


250  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Over  and  over  again  the  conscientious  physician  read 
this  remarkable  request  and  this  incomprehensible  an 
nouncement. 

"Who  is  the  unknown  father  of  this  unknown  son, 
whom  some  person  is  implored  to  save  ?"  The  intelli 
gent  medical  gentleman  was  completely  baffled.  "  It 
seems  like  fiction,"  he  continued.  "  Am  I  the  person 
referred  to  in  this  mysterious  communication  ?  and  if  so, 
who  are  they  whom  I  am  thus  mysteriously  called  to 
serve  ?" 

He  hurriedly  penned  a  line  begging  a  call  from  Mr. 
Ruggleton,  and  forthwith  dispatched  one  of  the  hotel 
errand  boys  to  the  lawyer's  office.  Then,  after  first 
satisfying  himself  that  the  young  man  was  entirely  com 
fortable,  although  in  a  complete  cataleptic  trance,  the 
doctor  went  to  his  breakfast. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  WHEN  I  was  a  boy,  it  was  all  my  joy 

To  rest  in  scented  shade, 
When  the  sun  was  high,  and  the  river  nigh, 

A  musical  murmur  made." — Cornwall. 

THREE  days  and  three  nights  Wilson  had  remained 
mentally  unconscious.  Faithfully  the  doctor  watched  and 
waited  upon  his  patient.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourth 
day,  however,  the  symptoms  rapidly  disappeared,  and 
young  Wilson  was  thus  fully  returned  to  his  customary 
state,  with  the  exception  of  a  weary  weakness  which 
seemed  to  pervade  his  entire  body.  He  had  no  memory  of 
any  thing  that  had  happened,  and  could  form  no  concep 
tion  of  the  lapse  of  time.  His  appetite  soon  revived,  and 
in  the  course  of  the  day  he  ate  and  drank  nourishing  pre- 


EE APING  THE  FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  251 

parations,  and  by  evening  was  sufficiently  invigorated 
to  walk  about  the  hotel. 

Next  morning,  soon  after  breakfast,  a  well-dressed 
gentleman  arrived.  He  immediately  sent  his  card  up  to 
Doctor  Du  Bois.  On  being  admitted  to  the  office,  he 
presented  a  note  of  introduction,  which  read  thus  : 

LAW  OFFICES  OF  MESSRS.  RUGGLESTON,  STRYKER  &  SYRDAH, 
2fo.  29  Wall  Street,  New-York, 
December^,  1839. 

SIR  :  The  bearer  of,  this,  the  Rev.  Silas  B.  Richardson,  D.D., 
whom  we  do  not  personally  know,  but  who  is  most  favorably  com 
mended  to  us  by  one  of  our  New-York  clients,  seeks  an  interview 
with  you  relative  to  the  peculiar  nature  and  extent  of  your  investi 
gations,  in  which  he  avows  himself  very  profoundly  interested. 

Hoping  the  acquaintance  will  prove  mutually  agreeable  and 
beneficial,  we  subscribe  ourselves,  with  assurances  of  great  esteem, 
Yours,  &c., 

RUGGLESTON,  STRYKER  &  SYRDAM. 
To 

DOCTOR  LA  FORCE  Du  Bois, 
Carlton  Hotel,  N.  Y. 


CHAPTER  Till 

"  THE  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained ; 
It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath  ;  it  is  twice  blessed ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes." 

SMkespeare. 

THE  Reverend  Dr.  Silas  B-.  Richardson  was  a  middle- 
sized,  well-proportioned  man,  apparently  forty-five  years 
of  age,  with  the  bluff  address  of  an  old-fashioned  rough 
and  ready  country  parson.  His  head  was  large  and 
fairly  developed,  especially  large  at  the  base,  and  sloped 
rapidly  toward  a  bony  bridge  at  the  top,  which  was  re 
spectably  bald  ;  while  a  mass  of  thick,  coarse,  grizzly- 


252  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

gray  hair  gave  his  brain-piece  the  general  character  of 
of  a  man  of  sturdy  common  sense,  but  quite  deficient  in 
literary  cultivation.  The  general  expression  of  his 
countenance,  however,  was  far  less  promising ;  there 
was  in  his  light  watery  blue  eyes  and  about  his  heavy- 
lipped  mouth  a  look  of  shrewdness,  hypocrisy,  sensual 
ity,  and  treachery. 

"Monsieur,"  the  doctor  began  politely,  "you come  to 
speak  of  poor  people  and  the  criminals  of  New- York, 
eh?" 

"  Hav-in  a  little  tay-em  to  giv-e,"  said  the  drawling- 
voiced  visitor,  "  I  beg-ged  an  intro-duction  for  this  pur 
pose.  Like  th'  de-vine  Lee-der  and  Mas-ter,  I'm  told  you 
go  a-bout  doo-in  good." 

"  By  way  of  penny  charity  and  trifling  alms-giving," 
replied  the  doctor  smartly,  "  my  services  to  the  poor  of 
New- York  are  of  no  account." 

The  peering  and  object-hunting  eyes,  and  the  uncer 
tain  expression  in  the  features  of  Mr.  Richardson,  afflicted 
the  observing  doctor  with  an  indescribable  feeling  of 
uneasiness.  The  feeling  made  him  reserved  and  cau 
tious.  He  was  greatly  relieved  when  young  Wilson — 
paler  than  usual,  trembling  with  weakness — entered  the 
office.  After  the  slight  ceremony  of  introduction — 
which  seemed  immensely  to  interest  the  hunting  eyes  of 
the  clergyman — the  sick  and  sad-looking  detective  walk 
ed  feebly  away  and  dropped  wearily  down  upon  his  bed. 

"A  you-ng  friend  of  yours  ?"  asked  the  reverend  gen 
tleman,  at  the  same  time  critically  eyeing  and  measur 
ing  "Wilson  from  head  to  foot. 

A  polite  bow,  and  an  affirmative  gesture  Avith  his  hand, 
was  the  doctor's  only  reply. 

"  Al-mayghty  Goud  in  hay-s  many-fold  marcies,"  said 
the  visitor,  "  giv-s  to  hay-s  peeple  the  poo-r  as  a  purr- 
pete-ual  leg-gay-see." 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  253 

Suddenly  the  feeble  and  pale  young  Wilson  sprang 
from  his  prostrate  position.  A  terrible  destructive  fire 
blazed  and  flashed  in  his  steady  black  eyes.  He  ad 
vanced  rapidly,  but  with  a  firm  step,  looking  as  invin 
cible  and  determined  as  a  powerful  giant. 

"  Dragon  of  hell  !"  he  said  savagely,  at  the  same  in 
stant  grappling  the  reverend  Silas  B.  Richardson  by  the 
collar  and  throwing  him  headlong  upon  the  floor.  "  Lie 
there  !  you  hypocritical  villain." 

The  doctor  interposed  immediately  in  behalf  of  the 
groaning  and  pleading  visitor.  "Fred,"  said  he,  "your 
mind  wanders,  I  fear ;  a  delirium  is  still  possessing  your 
brain." 

"  God  knows  !"  exclaimed  the  young  detective ;  "  I 
have  struck  down  a  thief,  a  spy,  and  a  forger." 

Richardson  stoutly  and  vehemently  contradicted  and 
positively  denied  every  thing;  and  yet  he  looked  at 
Wilson  and  begged  and  groaned  and  plead  for  his  life. 

"  Doctor  !"  said  Wilson  with  Commanding  energy, 
"  this  man  must  be  instantly  arrested.  Please,  sir,  at 
once  call  an  officer." 

A  hotel  servant  was  immediately  called  and  dispatched 
for  two  or  more  policemen. 

Richardson  jumped  immediately  upon  his  feet  and 
made  a  rushing  spring  for  the  door.  His  countenance 
was  wonderfully  changed  from  a  smooth-shaved  and 
grave-faced  clergyman  to  that  of  a  corrupt  and  withered 
agent  of  evil.  Wilson  caught  him  by  the  shoulder 
when  he  had  reached  the  door  and  suddenly  hurled  him 
with  terrible  violence  against  the  floor.  He  seemed 
like  a  mere  helpless  child  in  the  giant  grasp  of  the  pale- 
faced  detective. 

"  A  dragon's  life,"  said  Wilson  to  the  doctor,  with  a 
revengeful  sternness,  "  is  not  worth  all  this  trouble." 


254:  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  All  life  is  sacred,"  replied  the  doctor,  in  a  decided 
tone  of  expostulation  and  admonition. 

A  look  of  inexpressible  contempt  and  abhorrence 
shone  out  from  every  part  of  Wilson's  face.  His  eyes 
flashed  angrily,  and  his  whole  body  trembled  and  quiv 
ered  with  a  wild  fury.  But  he  stood  still,  and  made  no 
answer  to  the  physician's  philanthropic  remarks. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  on  the  stairs  and  a  smart  rap  at 
the  door.  Three  officers  of  the  police  entered. 

In  the  meantime  Richardson  had  arisen,  and  was 
looking  about  for  an  avenue  of  escape.  He  began  to 
move  toward  the  door  of  the  doctor's  sleeping  apartment, 
but  was  closely  followed  by  the  vigilant  and  invincible 
young  man. 

At  that  moment  Fred  "Wilson  presented  to  the  be 
holder's  eye"  a  perfect  picture  of  personal  beauty  and 
kingly  majesty ;  but  alas !  a  picture,  also,  of  a  youth 
whose  heart  and  ardent  nature  were  strangers  to  the 
sunshine  and  tenderness  of  pure  affection.  He  seemed 
to  be  heartless  and  merciless — and  in  reality  he  was 
exactly  what  he  seemed  to  be :  and  why  ?  Because, 
from  his  very  beginning,  the  poor  boy  had  been  homeless 
and  motherless.  But  the  generative  powers  and  enkind 
ling  essences  of  his  ancestors  and  immediate  progenitors 
had  attained  in  him  both  oi'ganization  and  expression. 
He  was  free  from  concealment  and  hypocrisy,  but  passion 
ate,  rash,  impetuous,  retaliatory,  cruel,  and  revengeful ; 
and  yet,  notwithstanding  the  percussive  violence  of  his  in 
herited  temperament,  young  Wilson  had  honor,  truthful 
ness,  industry,  sentiment,  enthusiasm,  and  an  indescriba 
ble  love  of  sweet  and  tender  strains  of  music.  What  a 
picture !  Behold  him  standing  guard  over  the  cowed 
and  terrified  Richardson  close  by  the  doctor's  bedroom 
door.  You  see  a  tall,  gentlemanly,  commanding  figure — 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF    CRIME.  255 

a  profusion  of  black  curly  hair,  black  glossy  whiskers, 
curling  long  moustache,  harmonious  features,  steady  and 
fiery  black  eyes,  and  a  pale  face,  at  once  expressive  of 
energy  and  hopelessness,  of  true  womanly  sentiment  and 
merciless  cruelty.  You  behold  in  him  an  embodiment  and 
illustration  of  parental  characteristics,  combined  with  the 
moulding  eifects  of  circumstances  in  the  development  of 
individual  organization  and  career.  He  is,  like  an  ex 
plosive  chemical  compound,  at  once  safe  and  dangerous. 
Every  thing  depends  upon  the  skill,  the  patience,  and  the 
judgment  of  those  who  have  the  management  of  such 
fearful  agents  of  either  immense  good  or  immense  evil. 

When  the  policemen  entered,  Doctor  Du  Bois  politely 
addressed  them  and  said,  pointing  to  Richardson,  "  Ai!- 
rest  that  man." 

All  three  oflicers  suddenly  and  simultaneously  exclaim 
ed,  "  At  last !"  They  actually  committed  the  indiscretion 
of  clapping  their  official  hands  with  irresistible  emotions 
of  triumphant  satisfaction. 

"  At  last !"  Yes,  and  so  it  will  forever  be  with  evil 
doers  and  criminals.  They  sow  to  the  wind  and  reap  the 
whirlwind.  "  At  last !"  after  more  than  seven  years  of 
diligent  looking  about  in  the  villages  and  cities  and 
crime-haunts  of  the  vast  republic  of  the  Western  World. 
"At  last!"  after  long  and  perilous  journeys,  made  under 
the  stimulus  of  immense  rewards,  to  Ireland  and  France, 
to  England  and  Italy,  "  At  last !"  the  officers  of  law 
and  order  and  justice  have  the  unutterable  pleasure  of 
laying  their  legal  hands  upon  the  prince  of  counterfeiters 
and  the  most  successful  of  forgers,  the  renewed  George 
Cantrell !  He,  like  other  criminals  and  doers  of  evil, 
fancied  himself  beyond  recognition  and  detection.  He 
had  ventured,  after  years  of  absence,  to  return  to  New- 
York.  Already  Captain  John  Nelson  had  enlisted  him 
in  the  diabolical  enterprise  of  robbing  Doctor  Du  Bois, 


256  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

and  then  by  intrigue  or  stratagem  stabbing  to  the  heart 
his  formidable  and  most  direful  enemy,  young  and 
honest  Detective  Wilson. 

To  this  end  George  Cantrell  employed  his  remarkable 
imitative  penmanship,  and  had  forged  a  letter  of  intro- 
troduction  from  the  Wall  street  legal  firm  to  Doctor  Du 
Bois. 

"  At  last !"  the  time  had  come  when  the  prepossessing 
forger  Cantrell  must  take  in  his  own  hand  the  sword  of 
truth,  which  is  invariably  two-edged  and  just ;  and,  thus 
armed,  he  must  go  forth  a  miserable  wanderer  iu  the 
thorny  fields  of  his  own  inner  life,  and  there  reap  the 
bitter  fruits  of  the  seeds  of  crime,  which  he  had  for 
many  years  been  sowing  broadcast  among  his  fellow-men. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  IF  love  be  sweet,  then  bitter  death  must  be  ; 
If  love  be  bitter,  sweet  is  death  to  me." — Tennysoq, 

As  soon  as  the  policemen  had  departed  with  the  for 
ger,  and  all  the  consequent  excitement  was  over,  young 
Wilson  resumed  his  prostration  on  the  bed. 

The  reserved  and  thoughtful  physician  regarded  the 
young  man  with  a  countenance  indicative  of  mental  un 
easiness  and  painful  forebodings. 

"  My  God ! "  he  exclaimed  to  himself.  "  Here  is  a  ter 
rible  human  instrument ;  the  invention  of  a  mysterious 
combination  of  ante-natal  forces.  His  nature  is  at  once 
noble  and  malevolent.  A  secret  destructive  fire  is  burn 
ing  in  his  blood  and  within  the  very  fibres  of  his  brain. 
He  is  independent  as  a  millionaire,  and  proud  as  au 
emperor.  Elects  to  live  apart  from  his  fellow-men,  in  a 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  257 

state  of  contemptuous  isolation.  And  like  Nemesis,  he 
seems  to  execute  justice,  to  discern  truth,  through  the 
double  darkness  of  his  wonderfully  black  eyes." 

Thus  the  doctor  delineated  and  reflected,  in  silence. 
Meanwhile,  young  Wilson's  face  grew  paler,  and  he 
moaned  sadly,  like  a  person  in  great  bodily  pain  and 
mental  distress. 

The  bachelor  physician,  being  fond  of  rich  and  beau 
tiful  objects,  had  handsomely  furnished  his  office  and 
bed-chamber.  Among  other  comforts,  near  his  medical 
library  and  cabinet  of  choice  medicines,  he  kept  an  elegant 
side-board  always  locked,  all  the  best  varieties  of  wines 
and  liquors,  arranged  in  handsome  flasks,  and  two  or 
three  decanters  of  celebrated  brandies.  He  mixed  a 
tumblerful  of  brandy  and  water,  and  proceeded  to  ad 
minister  the  dose  to  young  Wilson. 

The  young  man  smelt  the  brandy  aroma,  and  hesitated. 

"A  small  portion,"  said  the  doctor,  "to  warm  your 
stomach  and  quiet  your  nerves." 

With  a  serene  and  grateful  expression  of  countenance, 
Wilson  replied,  "  Pardon  me,  doctor.  My  stomach  re 
volts.  Wines  and  liquors  do  not  serve  my  nature.  I 
hate  them,  and  I  also  hate  tobacco  in  all  its  forms." 

"  Why,  Fred !"  said  the  astonished  doctor.  "  Do  you 
really  never  indulge  in  any  of  these  agreeable  and  gentle 
manly  habits  ?" 

"  Gentlemanly !"  returned  Wilson,  disdainfully,  and 
then  ejaculated  twice — "  Dragons !  dragons !" 

Immediately  the  doctor  seated  himself  by  the  bed-side 
and  firmly  laid  his  right  palm  on  the  young  man's  cold 
left  hand.  He  meant  to  soothe  the  yet  excited  detective, 
and  also  to  interrogate  him  closely  on  many  of  his  per 
sonal  dispositions  and  characteristics. 

"  You  puzzle  me  greatly,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Your  na 
ture  and  disposition  seem  to  conflict  and  war  together." 


258  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,"  said  Fred,  coldly  and  sadly,  with 
a  peculiar,  distrustful,  and  half  sardonic  smile. 

"  Criminals  and  other  unfortunates  seem  to  excite  you 
beyond  your  self-control,"  remarked  the  doctor. 

"Well,"  said  Fred,  coldly,  " why  shouldn't  the  hell 
ish  dragons  excite  me  ?" 

"Young  man,"  returned  the  doctor,  admonishingly, 
"  you  seem  to  be  instantly  possessed  with  an  uncontrolla 
ble  passion  for  vengeance ;  and  that,  too,  against  indi 
viduals  who  are  strangers  to  you,  and  who  have,  there 
fore,  never  harmed  you  in  any  manner  ?" 

"  Villains  /"  said  Wilson,  warmly  and  emphatically, 
"  the  villains  came  from  the  belly  of  hell,  and  they  ought 
to  be  sent  straight  back  to  hell." 

"  Your  strong  expression,"  said  the  doctor,  rebukingly, 
"is  heartless.  The  human  world,"  continued  the  bene 
volent  man,  "  is  but  one  family ;  all  the  individuals  in  it 
are  relatives ;  no  one  is  positively  independent.  The 
poor  depend  upon  the  rich,  and  the  rich  depend  upon  the 
poor ;  the  very  worst  man  is  own  brother  to  the  very  best 
man ;  one  class  of  individuals  are  low  and  another  class 
are  high,  as  in  physical  nature  there  are  valleys  and 
streams  because  there  are  mountains  and  springs." 

Young  Wilson  was  evidently  lost  in  thought.  But 
quick  as  thought  can  change,  he  returned  to  his  first 
alarming  and  heartless  assertion,  and  added — 

"And,  sir,  in  my  opinion,  the  old  hell-bent  villains 
shouldn't  have  such  a  blubbering  and  praying  psalm-sing 
ing  fuss  made  over  them,  just  before  going  to  the  gallows. 
Why,  sir,  if  all  accounts  and  professions  and  confessions 
are  true,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  must  be  populated  prin 
cipally  with  angels  who  were  once  the  most  hellish  mur 
derers.  The  priests  convert  every  devil  of  them  before 
execution,  and  away  the  hell-born  imps  sail  straight  into 
a  damn  jolly  paradise  !  No  sir !  If  I  had  my  way, 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF   CRIME.  259 

every  bloody  murderer  should  spread  his  canvas,  and  be 
forced  to  make  twenty  knots  an  hour  for  the  hottest 
harbor  in  hell !" 

"  Would  it  not  be  better,  and  infinitely  more  praise 
worthy,"  asked  the  doctor,  "  if  you  should  habitually 
turn  your  thoughts  toward  God,  and  a  possible  heaven 
of  everlasting  happiness  ?" 

"  Sir, "  he  frankly  replied,  "  I  think  I  do  not  believe 
any  thing  in  that  direction." 

"  Indeed !  Do  you  never  attend  any  of  the  city 
churches  ?  Do  you  never  listen  to  discourses  on  relig 
ion  ?" 

"Whenever  on  shore,"  replied  the  candid  young  man, 
"  I  am  regular  at  the  Roman  Catholic  services,  although 
I  never  take  any  interest  in  the  religious  part  of  them." 

"  Why,  then,  do  you  attend  ?" 

"  For  the  music,  sir,  and  for  nothing  else." 

"  Indeed  !"  exclaimed  the  doctor, with  animation.  "  The 
prayers,  the  sermons,  pointing  the  heavenly  way,  the 
appeals  in  behalf  of  pure  principles — do  not  these  things 
interest  you  ?" 

"  If  I  believe  any  thing,"  said  the  pale  young  man, 
sadly,  "  I  believe  in  the  almighty  and  awful  trinity — 
Devil,  Damnation,  and  Hell." 

"  Indeed,  Fred  !     Do  you  really  believe  in  a  devil  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir !  I  think  he  must  have  been  my  father, 
if  I  ever  had  one." 

"Ah,  you  jest !  young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  gravely. 

Wilson  fixed  his  great  black  eyes  on  the  doctor,  and 
said,  firmly  and  sadly,  "  Sir,  why  then  am  I  overflowing 
with  destructive  fire,  and  emitting  suffocating  smoke, 
like  a  hell-hot  volcano  ?" 

The  doctor  wished  to  change  the  subject  and  asked, 
"  Why  do  you  take  such  delight  in  music  ?" 

"  Within  me,"  replied  the  frank-hearted  detective,  "  is 


260  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

a  restless  and  hungry  craving  for  sweet,  soft   strains — 
that's  all  I  know  about  it 

"  What  sensations,  or  what  memories,  do  you  experi 
ence  when  listening  to  most  agreeable  music  !" 

o  o 

"  Well,"  said  Fred,  meditatively,  "  I  don't  know  that  I 
ever  thought  much  about  it.  It  is  a  feeling  !  I  seem  to 
dream  of  bright  days.  I  hear  happy  words.  Weary 
hours  vanish.  I  am  rested.  The  world's  noises  sound 
like  swaying  woods  and  rolling  waves.  I  weep  like  a 
silly  girl.  At  such  times,  sir,  it  seems  as  though  I  might 
love  another.  Unless  I  hear  such  music,  sir,  my  bosom 
burns  with  hate  toward  every  body !  Sorry  to  say  it,  sir, 
but  my  feelings  are  bitter,  and  my  impulses  murderous 
toward  utter  strangers — men  and  women  and  children — 
who  have  never  done  me  the  least  injury ;  all  the  same 
in  my  feelings  as  though  they  had  been  my  life-long 
enemies.  I  feel  this  way,  sir,  when  I  pass  them  in  the 
street.  This  terrible  impulse  is  less  troublesome  on  ship 
board,  sir;  on  shore,  where  all  noises  are  hellish,  I  am 
sometimes  maddened.  On  land,  sir,  every  thing  looks 
devilish  disagreeable.  I  hate  the  ground  for  its  wet  and 
mud.  I  hate  the  weather  for  its  aii*-blasts  and  drizzling 
storms.  I  hate  the  very  streets  of  New-York  for  their 
straggling  crowds  of  human  villains,  and  because  I  see 
plodding  horses  dragging  carts  and  omnibuses  through 
the  damn  black  mud.  The  very  houses  and  shops  seem 
hateful.  But,  sir,  if  I  attend  a  concert,  or  the  Catholic 
church  on  Sunday  evenings,  a  few  strains  of  sweet,  soft 
music  restore  my  reason  and  warm  my  better  self,  and  for 
the  moment  I  fancy  I  have  both  the  sentiment  of  hope 
and  the  feelings  of  happiness." 

With  intense  interest  the  doctor  listened  to  every  word 
of  this  free  and  full  confession. 

"  Your  expressions  of  hatred  to  every  thing  and  every 
body,"  said  he,  "recall  to  my  mind  the  contents  of  a 


KEAPING  THE   FKUITS  OF   CRIME.  261 

letter  I  once  received  from  a  Cuban  lady,  who  was  a 
resident  of  New-Orleans,  and  was  at  one  time  a  patient 
of  mine.  She  expressed  herself  as  strongly  and  as  un 
qualifiedly  as  you  do ;  but  her  hate,  however,  was  be 
stowed  specifically  and  mercilessly  upon  New-Orleans, 
and  upon  every  body  and  every  thing  in  that  city,  indis 
criminately  ;  while  it  seems  your  feelings  of  hate  are  uni 
versally  diffused,  and  your  sanguinary  impulses  yield  to 
nothing  so  quickly  as  to  strains  of  music." 

Suddenly  the  doctor  started  to  his  feet  and  commenced 
to  pace  the  floor.  He  was  evidently  under  an  intense 
excitement. 

"  My  God  !  my  God  !"  he  articulated,  in  an  under-tone 
to  himself.  "  Madam  Sophia  Del  Aragoni,  the  adorable 
Creole  widow,  was  pregnant  when  she  conceived  and 
nourished  her  bitter  hatred  for  every  thing  and  every 
body  in  New-Orleans !  My  God !  wThat  if  this  remarkable 
Fred  Wilson  should  prove  to  be  the  lost  son  of  that  ex 
tremely  charming  woman  ?" 

Then  he  suddenly  recalled  the  striking  likeness  he  had 
fancied  he  had  for  a  moment  discovered  in  the  young 
man's  pale  and  attractive  countenance,  during  his  recent 
cataleptic  and  ecstatic  entrancement. 

Hurriedly  he  walked  to  the  bed  and  commenced  a 
searching  analysis  of  young  Wilson's  features.  In  vain  ! 
He  coiild  trace  not  the  least  resemblance.  His  beaming 
face  suddenly  looked  heavy  with  a  heartfelt  disappoint 
ment. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  doctor  slowly,  "  you  re 
marked  that,  sometimes,  when  listening  to  music,  you 
felt  as  though  it  was  possible  for  you  '  to  love  another.' 
Now,  Fred,  if  you  feel  at  liberty  to  answer,  I  will  in 
quire  whether  or  not  you  ever  really  loved  any  lady  ?" 

"  Doctor,"  he  replied,  promptly,  "  I  never  had  any 
other  feeling  than  the  bitterest  contempt  for  females." 


262  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"Indeed!"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "  Have  you  not, 
during  your  long  sailing  voyages,  been  tempted  to  ac 
company  your  comrades  into  the  haunts  of  profligacy 
and  vice  ?" 

"  Never  !"  said  the  young  man,  indignantly.  "  For 
such  excitements,  sir,  I  have  a  terrible  abhorrence." 

"  Remarkable  !"  said  the  physician.  "And  yet,  your 
experience  in  this  regard  is  like  my  own,  with  the  excep 
tion  that  I  am  not  conscious  of  any  abhorrence  or  hatred 
toward  my  fellow-men.  You  confess,  Fred,"  continued 
the  doctor,  "  that  you  sometimes  feel  as  though  you 
could  love  another  ?" 

"  Ay,  sir,"  he  quickly  replied  ;  "  but  then  I  know 
that  I  should  demand  her  entire  existence.  I  should  be 
a  jealous  tyrant.  My  whole  natxire  would  be  exacting, 
merciless,  and  all-controlling.  If  I  should  ever  meet  a 
human  being  in  whom  my  nature  could  find  happiness,  I 
fear  that  both  of  us  would  be  very  soon  the  most  hateful 
and  wretched  of  devils  out  of  hell." 

At  that  moment  the  office-door  was  unceremoniously 
opened  by  a  servant,  who  in  a  coarse  voice  announced 
"  a  gentleman."  The  doctor  promptly  rebuked  the  im 
polite  waiter  for  the  outrageous  incivility  of  neglecting 
to  knock  and  wait  until  he  received  an  answer  from  some 
person  within.  Then  he  extended  his  hand  and  cor 
dially  welcomed  his  friend  Lawyer  Ruggleston. 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  BRAVE  thoughts  are  pioneers  of  mighty  deeds ; 
They  stir  the  sea  of  souls,  as  winds  control 
The  currents  of  the  surge,  which  ever  roll 
Where'er  the  boundary  of  the  ocean  leads." — Steicart. 

THE  physican's  favorite  guest,  Lawyer  Ruggleston, 


REAPING   THE  FHUITS  OF  CHIME.  263 

gave  a  detailed  circumstantial  narration  of  his  sister-in- 
law's  visit  to  the  establishment  of  Madam  La  Stelle. 
He  related  how,  after  Miss  Phoebe  Milton  had  escaped 
from  the  fearful  woman  and  had  fairly  intrenched  her 
self  in  her  own  room  at  home,  and  felt  safe,  and  out  of 
excitement,  a  reaction  suddenly  came  upon  hei',  and 
that  from  that  hour  she  had  been  exceedingly  nervous, 
attacked  with  severe  headaches,  and  almost  prostrated 
with  fever  symptoms. 

"Ah!  monsieur,"  said  the  sympathetic  physician, 
"  most  deeply  do  I  deplore  these  painful  effects.  My 
pleasure  will  be  immense  if  I  am  permitted  to  render  ap 
propriate  reparation."  Then  he  added,  sadly,  "But 
Monsieur  Ruggleston,  is  it  not  enormously  remarkable 
that  women  thus  fly  from  each  other  ?" 

"  Under  the  circumstances,"  he  replied,  "  I  think  it 
is  not  remarkable.  Madam  La  Stelle,  you  are  aware, 
is  secretly  and  illegally  attacking  the  very  foundations 
of  societary  morality  and  private  virtue." 

"  In  what  manner  ?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Why,  sir,  under  the  guise  of  a  private  lying-in  hos 
pital,  she  is  practicing  infanticide,  and  abortion  on  a 
large  scale.  Jsfow,  doctor,  I  ask  you :  does  not  such  a 
practice  exert  an  unfavorable  influence  upon  female  vir 
tue  ?  Does  it  not  directly  increase  the  temptation  to 
licentiousness  ?" 

"Masculine  virtue  is  openly  assailed,"  politely  re 
plied  the  doctor,  "and  masculine  prostitution  is  un 
doubtedly  increased." 

"  Men  are  all  right,"  said  the  lawyer,  rather  facetious 
ly.  "  Female  virtue,  however,  and  social  morality  and 
good  order,  are  what  our  marital  laws  and  domestic  in 
stitutions  were  made  to  protect  and  perpetuate." 

"Have  you  a  foundling  hospital  in  New- York?" 
asked  the  Doctor. 


264:  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  We  Americans,"  the  lawyer  replied,  "  agree  with 
the  people  of  many  of  the  German  states  on  this  question. 
Public  sentiment  here  is  decidedly  antagonistic  to 
foundling  hospitals.  We  think  they  encourage  prostitu 
tion  and  increase  the  number  of  illegitimate  children." 

"  An  erroneous  theory,"  remarked  the  physician,  "  is 
the  mother  of  evil  practices.  Among  all  nations  there  is  a 
certain  proportion  of  men  and  women  who,  by  force  of 
their  inherited  temperaments  and  the  influence  of  cir 
cumstances,  conduct  themselves  contrary  to  the  estab 
lished  laws  of  virtue  and  social  order.  These  persons 
give  rise  to  the  institutions  of  licentiousness,  and  il 
legitimacy  in  progeny.  Now,  inasmuch  as,  for  illustra 
tion,  sailors  provide  themselves  against  storms,  and  duly 
prepare  to  stem  adverse  winds  and  tides  in  all  seas,  and 
thus  save  their  ships ;  so,  why  should  not  social  and  na 
tional  captains,  with  equal  foresight  and  discretion,  pro 
vide  wholesome  protective  institutions,  whereby  the  gen 
eral  good  may  be  subserved  by  those  who  antagonize 
with  the  interests  of  the  obedient  millions  ?" 

"  Private  charity  can  do  much  for  foundlings,"  replied 
Mr.  Ruggleston.  "  Personally  I  don't  approve  of  legal 
izing  foundling  hospitals  and  other  licentious  institu 
tions.  What  virtuous  individual  is  willing  to  be  taxed 
enormously  to  support  the  illegitimate  children  of  pa 
rents  who  ought  to  bear  the  expenses  consequent  upon 
their  criminal  licentiousness  ?" 

"There  are  natural  and  fixed  laws  regulating  conjugal 
infidelities  and  parental  transgressions,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  Observation,  and  a  just  judgment  derived  from  study 
ing  the  experience  of  the  citizens  of  all  nations  and  for 
hundreds  of  years,  should  teach  us  that  the  evils  of  foeti- 
cide  and  infanticide  are  immensely  increased  in  all  coun 
tries  where  no  provision  is  made  to  prevent  those  evils 
in  the  form  of  foundling  hospitals,  wherein,  as  in  France 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  265 

and  Russia  and  Spain,  the  best  educational  advantages 
and  many  refining  social  privileges  are  accorded  to  each 
little  stranger  child  of  either  sex." 

"  The  virtuous  instincts  of  humanity,"  replied  the 
lawyer,  "  naturally  abhor  illegitimate  children.  All 
nations  have  enacted  severe  laws  to  punish  the  guilty 
parents  ;  and  yet  it  would  seem  the  crime  of  infanticide, 
or  the  heartless  desertion  of  illegitimate  children,  has 
not  been  materially  checked." 

"  Ah  !  very  true,  Monsieur  Ruggleston,"  said  the  doc 
tor.  .  "  This,  sir,  is  true,  because  what  you  call  the  '  vir 
tuous  instincts  of  humanity'  are  not  enlightened.  Oldest 
nations  are  invariably  the  most  barbarian.  Egyptians, 
Greeks,  Romans,  and  Chinese,  indicate  how  vicious  is 
an  unenlightened  virtue." 

"  Doctor !"  interrupted  the  legal  gentleman,  "  your  re 
marks  are  rather  vague.  Please,  sir,  have  the  goodness 
to  express  your  sentiments  in  plain,  direct  language." 

"  Certainly,  monsieur  !"  he  replied,  cheerfully.  "  My 
thought  is  this,  sir  :  A  public  morality,  a  popular  vir 
tue,  which  consigns  to  perpetual  disgrace  a  child  be 
cause  of  its  illegitimate  origin,  is  au  immoral  morality 
and  a  very  vicious  type  of  virtue." 

"  Alarmingly  strong  !"  said  the  lawyer.  "  But  pray 
proceed,  sir ;  for  the  subject,  doubtless,  is  vital  to  a  Chris 
tian  civilization." 

"Maternity,"  contumed  the  extremely  earnest  phy 
sician,  "  is  a  miracle  of  both  body  and  soul !  No  woman 
can  became  a  mother  without  struggling  with  imminent 
perils  and  pain.  Her  very  existence  is  involved.  There 
fore,  sir,  a  child  is  sacred ;  a  divine  wonder,  a  revela 
tion." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Ruggleston,  "  your  high  and 
transcendental  views  are  accepted  not  even  by  women 

themselves,  are  they  ?" 
12 


266  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

"  Individual  parents,"  he  replied,  "do  not  often,  I  am 
aware,  think  these  holy  thoughts.  On  the  contrary,  mar 
ried  men,  especially  if  poor,  often  say  to  their  wives — 
*  Don't  bring  any  more  hungry  mouths  to  feed  !'  Well5 
sir,  what  follows  ?  The  hard-working  wives  are  mor 
tified  and  offended.  They  live  tinder  a  legal  sanction  by 
which  they  virtuously  yield  to  the  vicious  passions  of 
their  husbands ;  then,  sir,  they  swallow  patent  medi 
cines  and  seek  private  abortionists  in  order  to  prevent 
an  increase  of  family." 

"  Granting  all  you  say,  for  the  sake  of  the  argument," 
said  the  lawyer,  "  the  question  arises,  What's  your  re 
medy  ?" 

"The  spiritual  exaltation  and  legal  recognition  of 
woman's  world-producing  works,"  the  doctor  replied, 
with  hope  and  faith  beaming  upon  his  countenance. 

"  Confound  metaphysics,"  said  the  lawyer.  "  Please, 
doctor,  state  explicitly  and  plainly  your  best  thoughts  on 
the  question." 

"  Incomprehensible,  eh  ?"  said  the  doctor,  smiling 
incredulously.  "  Is  it  metaphysical  to  assert  a  woman's 
fundamental  and  absolute  right  to  the  wealth  and  love 
and  worship  of  the  world,  when  it  is  known  beyond  dis 
pute  that  the  world  and  all  it  contains  arrived  by  and 
through  her  direct  mediatorial  instrumentality?" 

"  Well,  Doctor  Du  Bois,"  said  the  lawyer,  with  a 
look  of  skepticism  in  his  eyes,  "  what  have  you  to  say 
of  abortion  and  infanticide  and  illegitimacy  ?" 

"Abortion,  monsieur,  like  infanticide,  is  a  crime 
against  nature,  and  for  which  unpardonable  crime  your 
virtuous  society  is  responsible ;  because  your  virtuous 
society  condemns  to  hopeless  infamy  every  child  which 
is  introduced  to  the  world  without  having  upon  its  back 
the  seal  of  State.  America  is  a  new  republic,  monsieur. 
Why  can  not  woman's  divine  function  of  maternity  be 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  267 

exalted  ?  Why  can  not  every  child,  born  in  the  image 
of  the  great  Creator,  be  provided  with  a  nurse  and  a 
home  ?" 

"  Ah,  doctor !"  said  the  lawyer,  "  your  plan  is  still 
open  to  this  objection  :  It  tends  to  immorality,  to  in 
crease  prostitution,  and  to  augment  the  army  of  illegiti 
mate  children." 

"  My  God,  monsieur !"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  warmly 
and  somewhat  impatiently,  "  do  you  not,  sir,  openly 
avow  and  advocate  a  heartless  and  merciless  standard  of 
virtue,  which  leads  females  directly  and  continually  to 
foeticide  and  infanticide  ?  Do  you  not  see,  sir,  that  your 
theory,  in  practice,  develops  on  one  hand  a  mighty  host  of 
libertines  and  courtesans,  and  on  the  other  a  large  army 
of  celibates  and  self-pollutionists  ?  Oppose  foundling 
hospitals  and  you  increase  child-murder  ?" 

"We  must  crush  out  licentiousness,"  said  the  lawyer 
firmly  and  thoughtfully. 

"  True,  monsieur,  very  true,  sir,"  the  doctor  replied. 
"  But,  sir,  is  not  crime  in  the  social  world  exactly  what 
a  thunderbolt  is  in  external  physical  nature  ?  Avoid  the 
shaft  of  lightning  and  you  remain  unscathed  ;  avoid  the 
causes  of  crime  and  you  promote  virtue.  We  must 
begin,  sir,  to  build  society  upon  broader  and  deeper  prin 
ciples  of  love,  and  truth,  and  justice.  Conjugal  infidelity 
and  illegitimacy  in  offspring  will  certainly  accompany 
and  embarrass  the  march  of  humanity,  on  the  same 
principle  that  tempests  and  destructive  earthquakes  will 
accompany  the  growth  and  revolutions  of  the  physical 
world.  All  efforts  to  mercilessly  condemn  and  destroy 
these  irrepressible  concomitants,  will  inevitably  weaken 
all  just  and  wise  efforts  to  rectify  evil  with  good." 

"  With  your  theory,  doctor,"  asked  the  lawyer,  "  what 
would  you  do  with  such  a  social  monster  as  Madame  La 
Stelle  ?" 


268  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Ah,  it  is  my  intention  to  call  at  once  upon  the  lady, 
sir,  and  persuade  her,  if  possible,  to  convert  her  grand 
establishment  into  a  benevolent  lying-in  hospital  and  a 
children's  aid  association,  •  which  are  now  so  much 
needed  in  your  great  city." 

"  Too  late,  doctor,  too  late,"  replied  the  lawyer,  exult- 
ingly.  "  It  seems  you  are  not  posted  in  current  legal  in 
telligence.  Madame  La  Stelle  has  been  arrested  and  duly 
committed.  It  was  brought  about  by  the  parents  of  a 
young  and  beautiful  girl  who  died  while  the  infamous 
woman  was  operating  upon  her  for  abortion.  And  per 
haps  you  have  not  heard  that  my  tenant  over  in  Hudson 
street,  Doctor  William  Morte,  has  been  convicted  of  a 
similar  crime  and  sent  to  the  state  prison  for  life,  and 
his  red-headed  clerk  for  a  snug  little  term  of  only  twenty- 
two  years." 

"  Madame  La  Stelle  arrested !"  exclaimed  the  sympa 
thizing  physician.  "  Doctor  Morte  in  prison  for  life !" 

The  two  gentlemen  remained  silent  and  thoughtful  for 
a  long  time.  At  length  the  doctor  said,  meditatively, 
"How  true  it  is,  sooner  or  later,  every  one  is  obliged  to 
reap  the  fruits  of  all  the  evil  seeds  he  or  she  has  willingly 
or  unwillingly  sown  !" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"  FINALLY  won !    Is  the  wife  like  the  maid  ? 

Read  here  the  answer  as  plain  as  a  book  ; 
Trusting,  in  thine,  a  soft  hand  is  laid ; 

Boldly  in  thine  the  loving  eyes  look. 
Ah,  it  is  well !  and  we  need  not  be  told 
The  love  of  thy  wife  is  more  precious  than  gold !" — Poet. 

LAWYER   Kuggleston   could   not  tear  himself  away 


REAPING   THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  269 

from  the  attractive  society  of  Doctor  Du  Bois.  They  sat 
face  to  face  and  conversed  like  brothers  concerning  many 
interesting  things  and  events.  Addressing  the  doctor, 
Mr.  Ruggleston  said  : 

"  You  seem  to  be  a  firm  believer  in  female  chastity  ?" 

"  Ah  monsieur  !"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  devout  believer  in 
the  chastity  of  true  men  as  well  as  true  women." 

"  Indeed !"  ejaculated  the  lawyer.  "  Then  you  really  do 
not  make  any  distinction  in  this  particular  between  good 
and  true  men  and  good  and  true  women  ?" 

"  Monsieur  Ruggleston, "  said  the  physician,  "  is  it 
not  plain  that  the  social  advantages  and  personal  liber 
ties  of  a  man  are  immensely  greater  than  those  of  a 
woman  ?  And  do  not  men  frequently  and  treacherously 
involve  women,  and  then  desert  them  in  their  helpless 
ness  ?  And  even  then,  with  all  such  disadvantages  and 
after  such  treacherous  treatment,  is  not  woman's  heart 
faithful  and  her  pure  love  unchanged  ?" 

"  You  study  human  nature,  doctor,  while  I  am  con 
sulting  Bacon,  Blackstone,  and  other  legal  authorities; 
so  you  will  not  expect  me  to  reply  intelligently." 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  physician,  "  among  the  causes 
ceKbres  I  have  found  a  case  in  point.  It  is  written  in 
the  quaint  style  of  the  last  century.  But  it  illustrates 
how  a  young  man,  aided  by  his  father,  tried  to  forsake 
a  maid  after  involving  her ;  and  how  she,  with  faithful 
affection  and  rare  eloquence,  saved  him  from  the  execu 
tioner." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  read  the  case  ;  it  may 
instruct  and  amuse  us."  Doctor  Du  Bois  immediately 
opened  the  old  book,  and  in  deep,  rich  voice  read  as 
follows : 

"In  the  year  1594,  a  young  gentleman,  whose  family 
dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sues,  in  Normandy,  came  to  the  uni 
versity  of  Angiers  in  order  to  study  the  law.  There  he 


270  TALE  OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

saw  Renee  Corbeau,  the  daughter  of  a  citizen  of  that 
place.  This  amiable  girl  was  young,  prudent,  handsome, 
and  witty.  Though  her  parents  wore  not  rich,  yet  she 
inspired  in  the  heart  of  the  young  student  a  passion  so 
vehement,  that  he  was  unable  to  enjoy  a  moment's  easi 
ness  when  she  was  out  of  his  sight.  He  found  means  to 
introduce  himself  into  her  company,  and  love  inspired 
him  with  such  eloquence,  that,  in  a  very  short  time,  he 
was  no  less  agreeable  to  her  than  she  to  him;  and 
their  attachment  became  so  fervent,  that  in  his  trans 
ports  he  offered  to  espouse  her,  and  gave  her  a  solemn 
promise  in  writing.  The  young  woman,  urged  on  by 
the  violence  of  her  passion,  and  agreeably  deluded  by  his 
putting  this  paper  in  her  hands,  forgot  all  her  prudence, 
and  granted  him  all  he  desired.  The  consequence  of  this 
fair  one's  tenderness  was  her  being  with  a  child.  This 
constrained  her  to  acquaint  her  mother  with  what  had 
happened,  who  told  it  with  all  the  circumstances  of  miti 
gation  she  could  devise  to  her  husband.  The  young 
woman  was  then  sent  for  into  their  presence,  and  after 
her  parents  had  reproached  her  in  severe  terms,  they 
began  to  consult  about  the  means  by  which  her  error 
might  be  repaired.  The  result  of  their  deliberations 
was  that  he  should  make  an  appointment  with  her  lover  at 
their  country-house,  and  thus  give  her  parents  an  oppor 
tunity  of  suprising  them  together. 

"  This  scheme  was  effectually  carried  into  execution, 
and  while  love  alone  possessed  the  heart  of  the  young 
inamorato,  fear  entered  on  a  sudden,  and  became  the 
stronger  passion  of  the  two.  The  sight  of  a  father  and 
mother,  enraged  at  the  injury  done  to  their  daughter, 
banished  for  a  time  the  idea  of  his  charming  mistress 
from  his  heart.  He  thought  of  nothing  but  how  to 
pacify  them ;  and,  in  order  to  this,  he  assured  them  that 
his  intention  was  always  honorable,  though  he  might 


EE APING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  271 

have  made  use  of  some  indirect  means.  The  father  and 
mother  of  his  mistress  then  began  to  put  on  an  air  of  satis 
faction  ;  but  at  the  same  time  told  him,  that,  in  order  to 
evince  the  truth  of  what  he  had  said,  it  was  proper  that 
he  should  give  their  daughter  a  contract  of  marriage. 
Knowing  no  other  way  to  escape,  he  yielded,  with  a 
seeming  readiness ;  and  a  notary  public  being  brought  to 
the  house,  the  business  was  immediately  dispatched,  and 
the  young  man  bound  to  marry  the  lady,  however  his 
sentiments  might  alter  afterwards. 

"  The  moment  he  had  put  his  hand  to  this  instrument, 
it  filled  him  with  disgust.  Those  charms,  which  had 
pierced  his  heart  a  few  hours  before,  now  lost  their  force, 
and  the  fair  one,  from  being  the  most  lovely  of  her  sex, 
now  appeared  the  least  agreeable.  After  a  few  days, 
he  left  her  abruptly  and  returned  home  to  his  father,  to 
whom,  without  the  least  reserve,  he  related  the  whole 
series  of  his  adventures,  and  the  unlucky  event  by  which 
they  were  closed.  The  father  was  a  man  in  good  cir 
cumstances,  who  valued  riches  much  more  than  the  finest 
qualities  of  the  mind :  he  was,  therefore,  extremely 
chagrined  at  this  story  of  his  son's,  and  absolutely  disap 
proved  of  the  match  he  had  made.  But  how  to  avoid  it 
was  the  difficulty.  The  old  gentleman  at  last  told  his 
son  there  was  but  one  way  left,  and  that,  if  he  would  re 
gain  his  favor,  he  must  follow  it  immediately.  The 
young  gentleman  was  all  obedience,  and,  in  pursuance 
of  his  father's  directions,  he  entered  into  holy  orders,  and 
was  actually  ordained  a  priest ;  so  that  now  it  was  im 
possible  for  him  to  perform  his  contract. 

"Renee  Corbeau  heard  this  news  with  the  utmost  grief, 
nor  was  it  possible  for  her  to  dissemble  the  anger  she  had 
conceived  against  her  lover,  for  committing  so  black  an  act 
of  perfidy.  It  is  very  likely,  howevei',  that  her  wrath 
would  have  vented  itself  in  complaints,  and  all  her  threat- 


272  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

enings  evaporate  in  words  ;  but  her  father,  being  as  much 
provoked,  and  having  less  tenderness,  immediately  ac 
cused  the  young  man  before  the  magistrate  for  a  rape  or  se 
duction,  and  on  hearing  the  cause  he  was  found  guilty. 
However,  he  appealed  to  the  parliament  of  Paris,  and 
the  cause  was  moved  to  the  Tournelle,  where  Monsieur 
de  Villeroy  at  that  time  presided.  On  hearing  all  parties, 
the  behavior  of  this  young  gentleman  appeared  BO  gross 
and  capable  of  so  little  alleviation,  that  the  court  decided 
that  he  should  either  marry  the  woman  or  suffer  death. 
The  first  was  impossible,  because  he  had  taken  orders  ; 
the  court,  therefore,  directed  that  he  should  be  led  to 
execution.  Accordingly,  he  was  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  executioner,  and  the  confessor  drew  near,  who  was 
to  assist  him  in  his  last  moments.  Then  it  was  that 
Renee  Corbeau  found  her  bosom  agitated  with  the  most 
exquisite  affliction,  which  was  still  heightened  when  she 
saw  the  pomp  of  justice  about  to  take  place,  and  her 
lover  on  the  point  of  being  led  to  the  scaffold. 

"  Furious  through  despair,  and  guided  only  by  her 
passion,  she  rushed  with  such  impetuosity  through  the 
crowd,  that  she  got  into  the  inner  chamber  before  the 
judges  were  separated,  and  then,  her  face  bathed  in  tears, 
all  in  disorder,  she  addressed  them  in  the  following  terms  : 
'  Behold  !  my  lords  !  the  most  unfortunate  lover  that 
ever  appeared  before  the  face  of  justice.  In  condemn 
ing  him  I  love,  you  seem  to  suppose  that  either  I  am 
not  guilty  of  any  thing,  or  that,  at  least,  my  crime  is 
capable  of  excuse,  and  yet  you  adjudge  me  to  death, 
which  must  befall  me  with  the  same  stroke  that  takes 
away  my  lover.  You  subject  me  to  the  most  grievous 
destiny,  for  the  infamy  of  my  lover's  death  will  fall  upon 
me,  as  I  shall  go  to  my  grave  more  dishonored  than  him. 
You  desire  to  repair  the  injury  done  to  my  honor,  and 
the  remedy  you  bring  will  load  me  with  eternal  shame, 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  273 

so  that  at  the  moment  you  give  your  opinion,  that  I  am 
rather  unhappy  than  criminal,  you  are  pleased  to  punish 
me  with  the  most  severe  and  most  intolerable  pains. 
How  agrees  your  treatment  of  me  with  your  equity,  and 
with  the  rules  of  that  humane  justice  which  should 
direct  your  court  ?  You  can  not  be  ignorant  of  the  hard 
ship  I  sustain  ;  for  you  were  men  before  you  were  judges. 
You  must  have  been  sensible  of  the  power  of  love,  and 
you  can  not  but  have  some  idea  of  the  torment  which 
must  be  felt  in  a  breast,  where  the  remembrance  dwells 
of  having  caused  the  death,  the  infamous  death,  of  the 
dear  object  of  her  love.  Can  there  be  a  punishment 
equal  to  this,  or,  after  it,  could  death  be  considered  in 
any  other  light  than  as  the  highest  blessing  of  Heaven  ? 

" '  Stay  !  oh  !  stay,  my  lords !  I  am  going  to  open 
your  eyes.  I  am  going  to  acknoAvledge  my  fault,  to  re 
veal  my  secret  crime,  which  hitherto  I  have  concealed, 
that,  if  possible,  the  marriage  of  my  lover  might  have  re 
stored  my  blasted  honor.  But,  urged  now  by  remorse  of 
conscience,  I  am  constrained  to  confess  that  I  seduced 
him.  Yes,  my  lords,  I  loved  first !  It  was  I,  that  to 
gratify  my  passion,  informed  him  of  my  attachment,  and 
thus  I  made  myself  the  instrument  of  my  own  dishonor. 
Change  then,  my  lords,  the  sentiments  you  have  enter 
tained  of  this  afi'air.  Look  upon  me  as  the  seducer; 
on  my  lover  as  the  person  injured  ;  punish  me  ;  save  him. 
If  justice  is  inexorable,  and  there  is  a  necessity  for  some 
victim,  let  it  be  me. 

"  '  You  look  upon  it  as  a  crime  that  he  took  holy  or 
ders  and  thereby  rendered  it  impossible  for  him  to  com 
ply  writh  his  contract ;  but  this  was  not  his  own  act ;  it 
was  the  act  of  a  barbarous  father,  whose  tyrannous  com 
mands  he  could  not  resist.  A  will  in  subjection,  my 
lords,  is  no  will  at  all  to  deserve  punishment.  The 
offender  must  be  free  ;  his  father  could  only  be  guilty ; 
12* 


274  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

and  were  he  not  the  father  of  my  love,  I  would  demand 
justice  of  you  on  him.  Is  it  not  clear  then,  ray  lords, 
that  your  last  sentence  contradicts  your  first  ?  You 
decreed  that  he  should  have  his  choice  to  marry  me,  or 
to  die,  and  yet  you  never  put  the  first  into  his  power. 
How  odious  must  I  appear  in  your  eyes  when  you  choose 
rather  to  put  a  man  to  death,  than  to  allow  him  to  marry 
me  !  He  has  declared  that  his  present  condition  will  not 
allow  him  to  marry,  and,  in  consequence  of  this  declara 
tion,  you  have  condemned  him  to  death  ;  but  what  sig 
nifies  that  declaration  ?  his  meaning  was,  that  he  would 
have  married  me  if  he  could,  and  if  so  your  sentence  is 
Tinjust ;  for,  by  your  former  decree,  he  was  to  have  his 
option.  But  you  will  say  a  priest  can't  marry.  Ah  ! 
my  lords,  love  has  taught  me  better.  Love  brings 
things  instantly  to  our  minds  that  may  be  of  service  to 
the  object  of  our  loves.  The  pope,  my  lords,  can  dis 
pense  with  his  vow  :  you  can  not  be  ignorant  of  this,  and 
therefore  his  choice  may  be  yet  in  his  power.  We  expect 
every  moment  the  legate  of  his  holiness  ;  he  has  all  the 
plenitude  of  power  delegated  to  him  which  is  in  the 
sovereign  pontifi0.  I  will  solicit  him  for  this  dispensation, 
and  my  passion  tells  me,  that  I  shall  not  plead  in  vain  ; 
for  what  obstacle  will  it  not  be  able  to  surmount,  when 
it  has  overcome  that  of  your  decree  ?  Have  pity  then, 
my  lords  !  Have  pity  on  two  unfortunate  lovers  ;  mi 
tigate  your  sentence,  or,  at  least,  suspend  it  till  I  have 
time  to  solicit  the  legate  for  a  dispensation.  You  look  on 
my  lover,  'tis  true,  as  a  man  guilty  of  a  great  crime  ;  but 
what  crime  too  great  to  be  expiated  by  the  horrors  he 
has  already  sustained  ?  Has  he  not  felt  a  thousand 
times  the  pains  of  death  since  the  pronouncing  his  sen 
tence  ?  Besides,  could  you  enter  into  my  breast,  and  con 
ceive  what  torments  I  have  endured,  you  would  think  our 
fault,  foul  as  it  is,  fully  atoned.  I  see  among  your  lord- 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  275 

ships  some  who  are  young,  and  some  who  are  advanced  in 
years ;  the  first  can  not,  sure,  have  their  breasts  already 
steeled  against  the  emotions  of  a  passion  natural  to  their 
sex ;  and  I  may  hope  the  latter  have  not  forgotten  the  ten 
der  sentiments  of  their  junior  years.  From  both  I  have 
a  right  to  pity;  and  if  the  voices  for  me  are  few,  let  the 
humanity  of  their  sentiments  prevail  against  the  num 
ber  of  their  opponents.  But  if  all  I  have  said  is  vain, 
at  least  afford  me  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  sharing 
his  punishment,  as  I  shared  his  crime.  In  this,  my  lords, 
be  strictly  just;  and,  as  we  have  lived,  let  us  die  to 
gether.' 

"This  amiable  woman  was  heard  with  equal  silence  and 
compassion  ;  there  was  not  a  word  lost  of  her  discourse, 
which  she  pronounced  with  a  voice  so  clear,  and  with  a 
tone  so  expressive  of  her  affliction,  that  it  struck  to  the 
hearts  of  the  judges.  Her  beauty,  her  tears,  her  elo 
quence,  had  charms  too  powerful  not  to  incline  the  most 
frozen  hearts  to  think  with  her.  The  judges  receded 
unanimously  from  their  opinions.  Monsieur  de  Villeroy 
having  collected  their  sentiments,  and  declared  that  he 
agreed  with  them,  proceeded  to  suspend  the  last  edict, 
and  to  allow  the  criminal  six  months  to  apply  for  a  dis 
pensation. 

"  The  legate  immediately  after  entered  France.  It  was 
the  great  Cardinal  de  Medieis,  afterward  Pope,  by  the 
name  of  Clement  the  Eleventh,  though  he  enjoyed  the 
chair  not  quite  a  month.  He  heard  the  whole  of  this 
affair,  and  inquired  narrowly  into  all  its  circumstances, 
but  finding  that  he  took  holy  orders  with  a  premeditated 
design  to  avoid  the  performance  of  his  contract,  he  de 
clared,  that  he  was  unworthy  of  a  dispensation,  and  that 
he  would  not  respite  such  a  wretch  from  the  death  he 
deserved. 

"  Renee  Corbeau  had  a  passion  too  strong  to  be  over- 


276  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

come ;  she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  king,  Henry 
the  Fourth.  He  heard  her  with  attention,  answered  her 
with  tenderness,  and  going  to  the  legate  in  person,  re 
quested  the  dispensation  in  such  terms,  that  it  could  not 
be  refused.  Hejiad  the  goodness  to  deliver  it  to  the  lady 
with  his  own  hands;  the  criminal  gladly  accepted  Renee 
for  his  wife ;  they  were  publicly  married,  and  lived  long 
together  in  the  happiest  union.  He  always  regarded  his 
wife  as  a  kind  of  divinity,  by  whose  interposition  his  life 
had  been  saved." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  DEAD — for  the  want  of  a  crust ! 

Dead — in  the  cold  night  air  ! 
Dead — and  under  the  dust, 

Without  ever  a  word  of  prayer. 
In  the  heart  of  the  wealthiest  city 

In  this  most  Christian  land, 
Without  ever  a  word  of  pity, 

Or  the  touch  of  a  kindly  hand ! — Chambers. 

THE  ensuing  four  weeks  were  memorable  to  the  doctor 
and  his  assistant  detective. 

They  adopted  a  programme  of  voluntarily  visiting  the 
destitute  homes  and  haunts  of  the  industrious  population 
— worthy  mechanics  and  energetic  women  who,  because 
of  the  business  and  financial  prostration  of  1837,  and  the 
rigor  of  the  succeeding  winter  months,  the  severitv  of 

O  O  */ 

which  reached  a  fearful  climax  about  the  first  of  March, 
were  obliged  to  send  to  the  pawnbrokers  every  saleable 
article,  in  the  panic-stricken  struggle  to  stave  off  death  ; 
and  thus  desperately  impoverished,  and  thus  fearfully 
exposed  to  the  terrors  and  desolations  of  the  season,  and 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  277 

in  many  cases  utterly  houseless,  they  were  by  force  of 
divest  circumstances  compelled  to  huddle  and  pack  them 
selves  together  in  miserable  quarters,  in  the  dirty  attics 
and  leaky  rooms  of  cheap  tenements,  void  of  every  com 
fort  ,  and  in  violation  of  every  sensibility  of  delicacy  and 
refinement.  The  merciless  pinchings  of  hunger,  and  cold, 
and  nakedness,  drove  numberless  persons  into  social  and 
moral  bankruptcy,  men  and  boys  into  robbery  and  crime, 
and  women  and  girls  into  prostitution,  and  into  wretch 
ed  and  hopeless  dissipation. 

But  yet  there  were  among  these  thronging  sufferers, 
as  there  always  are  in  every  large  company  of  human 
beings,  high-minded  women  and  brave-hearted  girls  who 
although  unknown  and  unrelieved  in  their  death-threat 
ening  necessities,  remained  personally  pure  and  strong 
in  the  right.  And  there  were  also  strong  and  true  men 
and  noble-souled  boys,  who,  though  unpitied  and  unrecog 
nized  in  the  midst  of  their  almost  death-pangs,  remained 
superior  to  pauperism  and  mendicity,  and  above  every 
temptation  to  rob  bakers'  wagons,  tear  down  fences  for 
fuel,  and  to  every  suggestion  leading  to  the  commission  of 
crime. 

In  his  peregrinations  and  observations,  Doctor  Du  Bois 
found  that  his  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  human  magnet 
ism  was  of  great  assistance.  They  unlocked  to  his  mind 
many  of  the  mysteries  and  miseries  of  human  nature. 

He  observed,  for  example,  that  where  there  existed  from 
the  confluence  of  external  circumstances  the  largest  ag 
gregations  of  idle  persons,  men  and  women,  and  boys 
and  girls,  there  the  largest  mass  of  moral  evil  was  rapidly 
developed  and  most  strongly  intrenched.  He  recognized 
at  once  the  stimulation  of  a  compound  magnetism  ema 
nating  from  individuals.  A  pernicious  and  vigorous 
growth  of  minute  vices  and  petty  crimes  commenced  im 
mediately.  Individuals,  before  known  and  respected 


278  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

as  mentally  sound  and  morally  good,  became  suddenly 
involved  (at  first  unwillingly)  in  the  vicious  manifesta 
tions  of  these  human  circumstantial  and  magnetic  asso 
ciations.  Thus  the  producing  causes  of  many  species  of 
crime  appeared  exceedingly  and  painfully  distinct. 

Now  the  benevolent  doctor,  it  will  be  remembered, 
was  a  firm  believer  in,  and  a  devout  worshipper  of  the 
idea  of  HOME.  The  family  system  for  the  development 
of  both  young  and  old  he  regarded  as  some  people  regard 
the  holy  church  and  the  sanctuary  of  religion. 

On  the  other  hand  he  was  positively  an  enemy  to  all 
congregated  institutions,  like  the  imposing  monastic  es 
tablishments  of  Europe  ;  wherein  a  high  type  of  personal 
responsibility  is  impossible,  because  it  is  overwhelmed 
by  official  teachers  and  religious  dignitaries,  who  gov 
ern  and  misdirect  the  individual  life  by  the  sceptre  of 
power  which  they  exert  upon  the  impersonal  mass. 

The  doctor,  therefore,  despaired  of  ever  seeing  emanate 
from  the  aggregated  religious  systems  any  thing  resem 
bling  a  high  and  self-sustaining  type  of  manhood  or  wo 
manhood.  He,  however,  regarded  the  young  and  trium 
phant  republic  of  the  United  States  with  unbounded 
hope  and  unrestrained  enthusiasm,  because  he  seemed 
to  see  the  immense  opportunities  and  natural  encourage 
ment  which  America  furnished  for  the  highest  develop 
ments  of  individual  character,  through  the  constructive 
instrumentality  of  the  independent  HOME. 

The  following  language  embodied  the  doctor's  views 
on  this  subject.  "  God  ordained  the  family  to  be  the  fun 
damental  social  institution.  In  it  are  the  roots  of  indi 
vidual  virtue  and  happiness,  and  of  national  strength  and 
prosperity.  All  political  and  social  organizations  should 
be  shaped,  so  far  as  possible,  with  a  view  to  foster  and 
strengthen  this  primal  institution,  and  to  preserve  intact 
its  essential  features;  to  wit,  separate  homesteads,  in 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF   CRIME.  279 

which  may  be  constant  indulgence  of  parental  and  filial 
affection,  extending  to  kith  and  kin ;  the  natural  rela 
tions  of  sex,  and  the  mutual  influence  of  various  ages. 
Where  these  are  enjoyed  in  homesteads,  with  a  portion 
of  land,  there  is  the  type  of  the  family.  Where  such 
families  are  multiplied,  and  spread  over  even  an  unge- 
nial  soil,  the  people  flourish  and  cling  to  it  Math  the  te 
nacity  and  vitality  of  grass ;  and  national  life  is  healthy 

and  secure Now  all  institutions  which  ignore  or 

nullify  any  of  the  essential  features  of  the  family  are,  in 
so  far,  unwise ;  those  which  persistently  nullify  them  are 
wrong ;  imitations  of  the  natural  family  on  a  large  scale 
are  not  only  by  necessity  imperfect,  but  they  are  always 
difficult,  and  sometimes  dangerous  and  pernicious.  The 
family  is,  moreover,  the  most  powerful  remedial  agency 
which  exists  in  any  community." 

In  a  New- York  journal  appeared  the  following  de 
scription  of  circumstances  and  scenes  in  the  great  city, 
which  most  faithfully  and  accurately  pictures  the  discov 
eries  and  observations  made  by  Doctor  Du  Bois,  and  his 
young  assistant,  Fred  Wilson. 

"  The  art  of  sinking  from  a  high  social  position  to  a 
lower  one  is  peculiarly  that  which  persons  out  of  em 
ployment  learn.  Commencing  at  a  fashionable  boarding- 
house,  they  frequently  go  through  all  the  gradations  of 
famished  rooms,  cheap  hotels,  lodging  houses,  and  the 
station-house,  sustaining  life  during  the  process  by  messes 
procured  from  the  cheapest  restaurants. 

"Houses  let  out  in  apartments  are  plentiful  in  New- 
York,  and  differ  from  each  other  vastly  in  kind  and  de 
gree,  ranging  from  the  elegantly  furnished  room,  occu 
pied  by  the  bachelor  of  leisure,  to  the  bare  attic  of  the 
tenement  house,  let  out  to  lessen  the  rent,  and  containing 
as  little  furniture  as  a  cell  in  the  Penitentiary,  and  that 
of  an  inferior  quality. 


280  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

"  The  prices  vary,  of  course,  according  to  location.  The 
east  side  of  the  city  contains  the  most  of  the  more  infe 
rior  class,  as  well  as  the  majority  of  cheap  hotels.  East 
Broadway,  Henry,  and  Madison  streets,  and,  in  fact,  the 
whole  of  the  Seventh  Ward,  contain  them  in  great  abun 
dance. 

"  It  is  considered  more  respectable  to  rent  a  room  in  a 
pi'ivate  house  than  in  one  of  the  lo  wer  class  of  hotels.  The 
latter  contain  from  twenty  to  one  hundred  rooms,  though 
there  are  several  that  have  a  far  gi'eater  number.  They 
are  said  to  be  kept  on  the  European  plan,  probably  for 
the  reason  that  Europe  possesses  nothing  that  in  the  least 
resembles  them.  Some  have  a  bar  and  restaurant  at 
tached,  though  this  is  not  usual. 

"  The  articles  found  in  the  bedrooms  are  usually  in  a 
very  dilapidated  condition.  The  floor  is  bare,  or  at  most 
a  narrow  strip  of  carpet  beside  the  bed,  which  is  some 
times  of  iron.  If,  however,  the  occupant  is  compelled  to 
sleep  in  a  wooden  nest  for  vermin,  his  situation  is  pitiable. 
The  raspberry-like  odor  of  the  bug  is  seldom  absent,  and 
while  roaches  abound,  the  little  creature  that  sticketh 
closer  than  a  brother  is  frequently  present.  A  three-leg 
ged  chair,  rickety  washstand,  with  Landless  pitcher  and 
chip-edged  basin,  constitute  the  furniture,  while  a  frame- 
less  looking-glass,  with  most  of  the  quicksilver  rubbed  off 
its  back,  gives  a  distorted  reflection  to  a  face  already  un 
happy,  without  being  compelled  to  view  his  own  degra 
dation. 

"  These  hotels  are  open  all  night  for  the  accommoda 
tion  of  wayfarers,  and  this  of  itself,  together  with  the  air 
of  dirty  dissoluteness  that  pervades  such  places,  is  apt  to 
have  a  demoralizing  effect  on  the  lodgers.  The  prices  for 
a  night's  accommodation  range  from  thirty-five  to  sixty 
cents  per  night.  Still  cheaper  hotels  can  be  found,  which 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  281 

supply  beds  for  twenty-five  cents,  one,  even,  in  addition, 
giving  the  lodger  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  morning. 

"  In  one  of  the  busiest  streets  of  this  ciCy  is  such  an  inn. 
In  a  basement,  dimly  lighted  by  a  flaming  oil  lamp,  are 
twelve  beds  ranged  around  the  wall,  each  with  a  number 
at  its  foot,  and  the  guests,  like  those  in  public  institutions, 
lose  their  personal  identity,  and  become  figures  of  arith 
metic  on  entering.  The  walls  are  damp  and  green  with 
moisture,  and  the  odor  is  almost  unendurable.  Parties 
enjoying  these  accommodations  will  do  well  to  use  their 
clothing  and  shoes  for  pillows,  as  without  great  watch 
fulness  it  is  almost  impossible  to  retain  any  articles  of 
wearing  apparel.  Persons  passing  through  Roosevelt, 
James,  Dover,  or  other  streets  of  that  kind,  may  have  re 
marked  roughly-painted  sign-boards  over  basements  con 
taining  the  words  "  Board  and  Lodging."  Happy  they 
if  their  knowledge  does  not  extend  beyond  this  outside 
view.  The  board  is  coarse,  and  is  composed,  in  some 
places  at  least,  of  what  has  been  begged  during  the  day 
from  charitable  persons  or  restaurants,  and  consists  of  a 
variety  of  articled,  01*,  as  also  happens,  it  is  composed  of 
what  has  been  bought  at  a  nominal  price  from  such  hotels 
as  sell  their  leavings.  The  lodgings  can  only  be  appre 
ciated  when  seen.  The  room  has  generally  two  or  more 
large  beds  surrounded  by  dilapidated  curtains,  which  ra 
ther  give  it  a  ragged  appearance,  and  are  useful  for  little 
besides.  During  the  day  these  are  thrown  roughly  over 
the  strings  from  which  they  depend,  and  it  is  only  at 
night  that  their  use  is  apparent. 

"  At  about  9  o'clock  the  guests  begin  to  assemble — 
men,  women,  and  children,  all  miserable-looking  creatures, 
whom  poverty  or  vice  has  led  into  this  pandemonium  of 
filth  and  discomfort.  Pipes  filled  with  "  hard  up" — the 
technical  name  for  smoking  tobacco  made  of  cigar  stumps 
— are  lighted,  and  until  ten  o'clock  or  later,  according  to 


282  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

the  customers,  conversation  is  indulged  in.  The  beggar 
relates  his  tricks  and  the  bummer  his  expedients. 

"  Preparations  for  the  night  are  then  made.  The  shut 
ters  are  closely  barred  so  as  to  let  no  warm  air  escape. 
The  curtains  are  let  down  and  the  large  beds  are  given 
to  the  married  couples,  who  are  expected  to  take  with 
them  to  bed  one,  or,  if  very  small,  two,  of  their  children. 
Trundle  beds  are  drawn  out  from  under  the  larger  ones, 
and  mysterious  bundles  of  clothing  make  their  appear 
ance  from  unexpected  nooks  and  corners.  Every  vacant 
spot  on  the  floor  is  covered  with  something  that  must  an 
swer  for  a  bed.  The  lodgers,  for  fear  of  the  vermin,  wear 
as  little  clothing  as  the  temperature  will  admit. 

"  Decency  is  unknown,  and  modesty  undreamt  of.  As 
many  as  twenty-three  human  beings,  men,  women  and 
children,  are  sometimes  found  thus  packed  away  seeking 
rest. 

"  The  proprietor  rules  his  guests  with  a  rod  of  iron,  or 
rather  a  big  stick.  Grunting  or  talking  meets  with  con 
dign  punishment,  and  if  any,  made  happy  or  the  reverse 
by  bad  liquor,  attempt  any  boisterousness,  it  is  quickly 
silenced  by  blows  delivered  by  a  master  hand,  while  the 
victim  is  asked  with  grim  seriousness  if  he  wishes  to  de 
stroy  the  respectability  of  the  house.  The  price  for  the 
accommodation  is  fifteen  or  twenty  cents  per  night.  A 
time  sometimes  comes  when  even  this  sum  is  beyond  the 
means  of  men  out  of  employment,  and  then  their  last  re 
sort  is  the  station-house.  The  lodgers  in  these  places 
consist  of  regular  bummers,  men  driven  by  stress  of 
weather  to  seek  its  hated  shelter,  or  sti*angers  who  have 
been  overtaken  by  misfortune,  or  have  fallen  among 
thieves. 

"  The  treatment  the  applicant  receives  depends  much 
upon  the- view  the  officer  in  charge  takes  of  his  character, 
and  as  policemen  are  not  always  infallible,  and  mistakes 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  283 

are  sometimes  made,  a  man  whose  only  crime  is  his  pov 
erty  is  received  with  insult.  It  is  necessary  to  apply 
early,  so  as  to  get  a  place  before  the  lodgers' room  is  fill 
ed,  the  number  of  applicants  depending  in  a  great  mea 
sure  upon  the  weather.  His  name,  age,  and  birth-place 
are  entered  in  a  book,  and  he  is  then  turned  over  to  the 
charge  of  the  door-keeper,  who  leads  him  to  the  room, 
opens  the  grated  door,  locks  him  in  and  his  self-respect 
out. 

"  The  rooms  are  usually  large  and  airy.  Stone  walls 
and  floor,  with  iron  bars  before  the  windows,  make  it 
seem  as  a  place  of  confinement,  and  add  to  the  strange 
feeling  that  the  occupant  for  the  first  time  possesses.  A 
stove,  usually  kept  at  a  red  heat,  is  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  and,  when  the  storm  rages  about  the  house,  gives 
some  comfort  and  compensation  for  the  situation.  A  wa 
ter-closet  and  hydrant  occupy  one  corner.  Around  the 
walls  is  extended  a  wooden  platform  about  one  foot  and 
a  half  or  two  feet  from  the  ground,  inclined  at  a  gentle 
angle  from  the  wall.  This  serves  as  a  bed,  and  upon  it 
are  stretched  all  manner  of  figures  in  the  shape  of  men. 
Sometimes,  when  the  weather  is  peculiarly  unpleasant, 
not  only  the  platform  but  even  the  floor  is  occupied  by 
wet,  shivering  wretches,  who  huddle  and  crowd  together 
for  warmth  and  sympathy. 

"Almost  all  the  rooms  are  alike,  though  at  one  place 
the  floor  is  lined  with  tin  and  at  another  iron  frames  with 
movable  wooden  slabs  are  used  instead  of  the  platforms. 
This  latter  arrangement  is  for  the  *ake  of  cleanliness, 
which  is  very  necessary,  as  the  entomological  specimens 
found  on  the  bodies  of  unwashed  and  uncared-for  persons 
abound.  The  cries  and  curses  heard  from  the  drunken 
men  and  women,  confined  in  neighboring  cells,  murder 
sleep,  and  the  guest  is  glad  when  daylight  arrives  and 
the  door  is  opened,  that  he  can  slink  away  in  the  early 


284  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN". 

dawn  without  being  seen.  Many  men  without  work  go 
through  this  course  every  winter — some  deservedly, 
others  from  misfortune,  but  in  any  event,  if  they  sink  to 
the  lowest  depths,  the  foregoing  are  the  stages  through 
which  they  pass." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"FKO5I  the  strong  will  and  the  endeavor 

That  forever 

Wrestles  with  the  tides  of  fate ; 
From  the  wreck  of  hopes  far-scattered, 

Tempest-shattered, 
Floating  waste  and  desolate." — Longfellow. 

WEEKS  rush  by  like  chariots  carrying  enormous  loads 
of  passengers  and  freight. 

One  cold,  blustering  night  in  the  first  month  of  the 
spring  of  the  new  year,  a  strolling  vagabond  knocked 
at  Doctor  Du  Bois's  office,  and  gruffly  demanded  admit 
tance. 

Wilson  opened  the  door  and  looked  out.  A  ragged, 
dirty-faced  fellow,  half-frozen  and  evidently  suffering 
from  hunger,  handed  out  the  following  open  note, 
written  awkwardly  with  pale  ink,  upon  very  greasy 
paper: 

der  doctor :  _ 

i  set  uown  to  wright  a  f ue  lynes  i  heerd  Off  yor 
gooadness  to  folks  whots  pooare  i  cende  me  chumbe  to  yo  fur  to  se 
eff  you  Cooulde  col  ande  joudge  Off  me  meaddicole  cicnis  iff  knoate 
to  moache  truble.  i  Cloase  buye  Cenden  yu  me  adres  no  4  celur 
2  dors  abuv  froam  catherns  moarket. 

From  a  ole  weather  beaten  calor.  jack  tarpolin. 

Wilson's  prompt  and  penetrating  sense — a  power  of  div 
ination  which  far  exceeded  the  doctor's  practical  observa- 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  285 

tion — discerned  in  this  forgery  the  murderous  hand  of 
Captain  Nelson.  Concealing  his  discovery  from  the 
disguised  bearer,  however,  the  detective  pretended  to  be 
pleased  Avith  the  opportunity  of  accompanying  the  doctor 
on  such  a  mission  of  mercy.  As  a  further  mask  he  handed 
the  ragged  fellow  a  piece  of  silver,  assured  him.  that  the 
case  of  charity  would  receive  early  attention,  and  then 
abruptly  closed  and  locked  the  door. 

When  the  physician  returned  from  his  walk,  Wilson 
related  the  details  of  the  foregoing  circumstance. 

"  For  some  unexplained  reason,"  said  Wilson,  "  that 
bloody  devil,  Nelson,  is  scheming  and  intriguing  to 
take  your  life." 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  with  a  shuddering 
shrug  of  his  shoulders,  "  a  very  disagreeable  prospect !" 
"  No  fear,  sir,"  said  Wilson,  proudly  and  grandly.  "  I 
have  Nellie  MacFarland  and  three  sharp-eyed  coves 
drifting  day  and  night  on  the  track  of  that  land-pi 
rate." 

"  Now  Fred,"  said  the  doctor,  apprehensively,  "  you 
begin  to  excite  a  thousand  fears  in  my  mind  in  your  be 
half." 

"  Sir,"  he  replied,  with  the  assurance  of  a  brigadier 
general,  "Sir,  there  isn't  a  ship  afloat  under  Nelson's 
command  that  can  run  my  craft  upon  the  sunken  ledges 
of  this  city." 

"  Ah,  Wilson !  my  brave  young  man ! "  said  the  doctor, 
"  you  are  as  fiery  and  as  confident  as  a  Turk ;  and,  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  Fred,  this  is  the  very  reason  why 
you  excite  my  apprehensions." 

Wilson  smiled.  Referring  immediately  to  Nelson, 
however,  he  said,  "It  has  been  discovered  that  he 
leaves  and  returns  to  his  boarding-house  by  means  of  a 
rope-ladder,  which  lie  employs  on  dark  nights  when  he 
has  bloody  work  or  highway  robbery  on  hand." 


286  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

"  How  can  such  a  discovery  concern  you  ?  "  asked  the 
doctor,  with  much  curiosity  in  his  face  and  voice. 

"  Why,  sir,"  quickly  replied  the  detective,  "  by  way 
of  that  ladder  our  little  army  of  three  (one  of  them  a 
city  policeman)  will  sail  in  behind  the  villain's  breast 
works,  where  he  shelters  himself  in  the  confidence  of 
the  landlady  and  her  servants  by  making  them  believe 
he  is  in  bed  and  sound  asleep.  But,  sir,''  he  added 
fiercely,  "  we  shall  wake  him  up  suddenly  the  morning 
next  after  we  have  searched  that  strong,  black  trunk  he 
keeps  double-locked  in  his  room." 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  doctor  with  marked  solem 
nity,  "  you  are  too  hot-headed  to  enter  the  deadly  fray. 
Let  the  battle  end,  let  the  jaws  of  danger  be  locked,  let 
others  follow  Nelson  and  grapple  with  him  when  the 
moment  for  fighting  and  carnage  shall  arrive — but  you, 
Fred,"  continued  the  physician — "  you  should  drift  calm 
ly  into  the  enchanted  shades  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church,  where  all  storms  of  wild  emotion  in  your  na 
ture  are  mysteriously  hushed  by  the  visionary  strains  of 
sweet,  soft  music !  " 

Young  Wilson's  bosom  heaved  with  the  surging  cur 
rents  of  his  fiery  blood.  He  seemed  gigantic  in  his  ex 
pansive  energy  and  resistless  will.  He  was  splendid  in 
his  wrath.  The  doctor  contemplated  him  with  positive 
admiration.  There  were  terrible  mental  qualities  on  ex 
hibition.  With  magnetic  repose  of  manner,  however, 
the  doctor  said : 

"My  brave  boy !  let  us  leave  New- York  for  a  time.  A 
journey,  affording  new  scenery  and  novel  objects  of  in 
terest,  might  do  us  both  good.  Come!  suppose  we 
pack  to-night  and  start  to-morrow  morning,  bright  and 
early — come  !  What  say  you,  Fred  ?  " 

A  quick,  light  shudder  trembled  through  young 
Wilson's  body,  and  a  sudden  calmness  and  paleness 


HEAPING  THE  FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  287 

settled  upon  his  countenance.  He  stepped  back  and 
dropped  into  a  chair.  A  heavy-hearted  sigh  escaped  his 
lips — his  eyes  closed  slowly  as  in  death.  The  physi 
cian's  magnetic  hands  were  instantly  at  work  upon  the 
already  unconscious  patient.  Presently  young  Wilson 
spoke  in  an  under-tone  : 

"  Benefactor  !  When  his  thorns  are  covered  with 
blossoms,  they  will  not  afflict  you." 

"  To  whom  are  these  words  addressed  ?"  asked  the 
doctor ;  "  and  who  is  the  third  person  alluded  to  ?" 

"Man,"  said  the  entranced  detective,  "is  two-fold. 
His  outer,  material  life  is  one,  and  his  inner,  spiritual  life 
is  one.  These  two  meet  and  struggle  with  each  other  for 
mastery." 

"Ah,  doubtless  !  doubtless  !"  replied  the  delighted 
and  enlightened  physician. 

"Fate,  Destiny,"  continued  the  young  man,  "rules 
the  life  of  the  body ;  but  Faith,  Deity,  rules  the  life  of 
the  soul  which  is  eternal." 

"Supreme  truth!"  exclaimed  the  overjoyed  physi 
cian.  Then  he  listened  again,  keeping  his  ear  close  to 
the  Avhispering  lips  of  the  inspired  Wilson. 

"  He  harbors  and  cherishes  the  elements  of  crime," 
continued  the  detective,  with  sorrowful  solemnity.  "Fol 
low  him  with  your  prayers,  lest  he  fling  his  life  into  the 
grave  and  enter  the  cradle  of  another  existence  too  soon." 

"  What,"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  hurriedly — "  what  am 
I  qualified  to  do  for  him  ?" 

"  Leave  him  not,"  the  whispering  lips  replied.  "  Neither 
go  from  the  city.  Plaintive  music,  the  voice  of  an 
affectionate  woman,  will  calm  and  restore  him.  Regard 

'  O 

him — as  you  regard  all  who  commit  crime — as,  by  inher 
itance,  diseased.  You  are  his  physician." 

An  hour  or  more  now  passed  away  in  silence.  Nothing 
further  could  be  extracted  from  the  whispering  lips. 


288  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

The  doctor  was  immeasurably  gratified  with  the  grand 
sentiments  and  prophetic  utterances  of  his  now  tranquil 
assistant.  Very  soon  he  was  sufficiently  restored  to  walk 
about  the  office.  Then  they  cordially  separated,  and 
each  retired  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"  YET  lament  not,  my  mother !  our  souls  shall  greet 
In  that  land  where  the  dead  and  the  living  meet, 
Where  the  friends  we  have  wept  come  around  once  more, 
With  the  smiles  which  their  living  features  wore." 

Huron. 

NAVIGATION  on  the  Hudson  had  been  open  but  a  short 
time.  Steamers  had  made  but  few  regular  through  trips 
from  New- York  to  Albany  and  return.  Multitudes  as 
sembled  on  the  piers  to  witness  the  grand  spectacle  of 
an  incoming  steamboat.  Among  others,  on  this  particu 
lar  evening,  was  Fred  Wilson.  He  was  never  weary  of 
thinking  of  the  sea.  Frequently  he  watched  the  in 
coming  and  outbound  vessels  with  something  akin  to  a 
sailor's  delight. 

When  this  day's  steamer  from  Albany  was  made 
fast  to  her  dock,  and  the  passenger  plank  had  been 
thrown  out,  the  young  detective  leisurely  walked 
aboard  to  look  around.  The  passengers  had  nearly  all 
gone  ashore.  A  young  lady  remained.  Her  tender, 
agreeable  eyes  were  looking  out  in  expectation.  There 
was  something  in  the  expression  of  her  prepossessing 
countenance  which  instantly  arrested  young  Wilson's 
favorable  attention.  She,  however,  seemed  painfully 
anxious,  melancholy,  and  frightened.  He  approached 
her  and  politely  asked : 

"  Do  you  expect  somebody  to  call  for  you  ?" 

His  question  seemed  to  fill  her  mind  with  an  inexpi-es- 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  289 

sible  dismay.  He  noticed  that  he  had  increased  her 
confusion  and  agitation.  After  a  little  she  tremblingly 
replied : 

"  Sir,  I  am  a  stranger  and  know  not  where  to  go." 

"No  friends  in  New- York  ?"  asked  Wilson  in  a  stern 
tone  of  surprise  and  indifference. 

"  There  is  a  gentleman  in  the  city,"  she  replied,  with 
much  confusion  of  manner. 

"  Yes,"  said  Wilson,  sneeringly  and  contemptuously, 
"  there  is  more  than  one  so-called  gentleman  in  this  city." 

His  abrupt  and  tantalizing  remark  terrified  her  be 
yond  speech.  A  cold  sweat  oozed  out  upon  her  fair 
countenance.  She  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  fit  of  weep 
ing,  which  instantly  filled  Wilson's  cynical  temperament 
with  disgust  and  impatience.  He  sullenly  and  roughly 
asked, 

"  Where  does  the  aforesaid  gentleman  reside  ?  Didn't 
you  bring  street  and  number  ?" 

"  O  my  poor  mother !"  she  exclaimed.  "  O  my  poor 
father !" 

"  Odd  street  and  number,  that !"  muttered  Fred,  more 
than  ever  disgusted.  "  No  objections  to  getting  a 
coach  and  seeing  you  safe  to  your  lodgings,"  he  added, 
in  a  somewhat  kinder  tone  of  voice. 

She  cried  from  the  very  bottom  of  her  heart.  At 
length,  however,  she  found  a  letter  in  her  bosom  ad 
dressed  to  her,  "  Miss  Mary  Morgan,  Syracuse,  N.Y." 

"  Dragon  !"  ejaculated  Wilson,  in  a  sepulchral  and  ter 
rifying  voice.  He  instantly  recognized  the  half-dis 
guised  handwriting  of  Captain  John  Nelson  ! 

The  timid  and  terrified  girl  gazed  through  her  blind 
ing  tears  eagerly  and  inquiringly  at  the  young  detect 
ive. 

"  Got  street  and  number  in  that  letter,  miss  ?"  he 
asked,  looking  almost  black  with  suppressed  excitement. 
13 


290  TALE  OP  A  PHYSICIAN. 

Her  confusion  and  dispossession  increased.  She  opened 
the  letter  with  trembling  fingers,  however,  and  found  at 
the  bottom  the  desired  direction,  as  follows  "  Martha 
Cubal's  boarding-house,  No.  96  Mercer  sti-eet,  New- 
York." 

"  Hell !"  said  Wilson  with  fierce  indignation.  "  Young 
woman  !"  he  continued,  "  who,  in  the  name  of  devils, 
gave  you  that  old  dragon's  address  ?" 

"  Sir !"  returned  the  girl  with  considerable  spirit — 
"The  gentleman's  name  is  Mr.  Russel  Fitz  James,  a 
young  and  wealthy  retired  New- York  merchant,  and 
Mrs.  Cubal  is  his  own  sister,  from  whom  I  have  received 
a  pressing  written  invitation."  Then  she  trembled  with 
fright,  and  wept  from  the  depths  of  an  overwhelmed 
heart. 

Darkness  of  night  was  rapidly  gathering  over  the 
city.  The  captain  of  the  steamer  ordered  all  passengers 
ashore.  "Wilson  at  once  procured  a  respectable  cai'- 
riage.  Miss  Morgan  and  her  traveling  packages  were 
hurried  in,  and  the  detective,  after  giving  the  driver 
directions  to  Nell  Palfry's  establishment,  located  in  an 
other  quarter  of  the  city,  stepped  in  and  seated  himself 
opposite  the  wretched  girl.  He  fixed  his  steady  black 
eyes  upon  her,  and  quickly  divined  the  whole  infernal 
trick  which  had  been  played  upon  her  by  the  arch  impos 
tor.  He  said  severely, 

"  You  have  run  away  from  your  father  and  mother  ?" 

"  Oh !"  she  cried,  "  to-morrow  I  will  take  the  first 
boat  back  to  my  poor  forsaken  mother." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  said  Wilson  willfully.  "  You've  got 
your  foot  in  it,  and  now  you'd  better  just  wade  in  over 
your  head,  then  stay  under.  It  won't  take  you  long  to 
get  sick  and  die  in  New- York." 

Wilson  quietly  and  critically  contemplated  her  pleas 
ing  features ;  her  innocent,  large  blue  eyes,  and  handsome 


HEAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  291 

mouth  ;  her  trembling  white  hands ;  the  golden  ringlets 
of  her  beautiful  hair  ;  and,  strange  to  relate,  he  suddenly 
realized  the  unspeakable  anguish  of  her  maidenly  heart. 
A  rich  tenderness  came  mysteriously  into  his  voice, 
when  he  asked, 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  the  gentleman  with  whom  you 
have  been  so  long  in  secret  and  loving  correspondence  ?" 

"  Oh  !  no,  no,  sir !"  she  quickly  said.  "  He  promised  to 
call  on  me  as  soon  as  I  arrived  at  his  sister's  residence." 

"  He  did  not  know^  then,  exactly  when  you  meant  to 
run  away  from  your  home,  did  he  ?" 

"  Oh !  no,  no,  sir !  He  ceased  writing  to  me  for  some 
weeks,  and  I  felt  crazy  to  hear  from  him.  Oh  !  it  is 
dreadful !  I  feared  he  was  taken  sick,  and  then,  I 
thought  that  I  alone  could  nurse  him  and  care  for  him, 
and  so  I  fled  in  the  night  from^my  poor  forsaken 
mother."  She  sobbed  aloud,  and  her  intense  anguish 
seemed  to  touch  a  tender  chord  in  the  strange  soul  of 
young  Wilson.  His  voice  rapidly  became  mellow  and 
wondrously  soothing,  yet  it  was  firm  and  resolute,  when 
he  said, 

"  We  met  by  the  merest  accident,  just  as  all  the  best 
things  happen.  We  are  strangers.  Perhaps  you  won't 
believe  me..  Any  how,  it  is  my  duty  to  inform  you  that 
your  girlish  imaginations  have  been-  excited  by  a  villain 
who  has  deliberately  plotted  your  destruction." 

The  affrighted  girl  seemed  about  to  shriek  for  help. 
She  looked  outrageously  insulted  and  magnificently  in 
dignant.  Wilson  firmly  cautioned  her  against  alarming 
the  police,  and  thus  involving  herself  in  endless  notoriety 
and  misfortune.  He  frankly  complimented  her  on  the 
exhibition  of  indignation.  Then  he  continued — 

"  If  you  will,  for  a  time,  consent  to  follow  my  counsel, 
no  harm  shall  befall  you.  The  truth  of  my  words  will 
come  home  to  you  soon  enough.  The  Mercer  street 


292  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

boarding-house — to  which  you  were  going — is  a  low  re 
sort  for  abandoned  women  and  dissolute  men.  We  are 
now  driving  to  Madame  Palfry's  stylish  boarding- 
house,  which,  I  am  told,  is  conducted  on  princely  princi 
ples.  Here  you  can  choose  your  lover,  or  live  indepen 
dently  ;  the  last,  if  your  board  and  contingent  expenses 
are  promptly  paid.  Now,  young  woman,  my  purse  is 
cursed  short.  My  clerkship  brings  me  a  devilish  limited 
income.  But  I  promise  to  place  you  by  yourself  in  safe 
and  comfortable  quarters,  for  which  I  will  pay  the 
proprietor  all  she  asks  for  at  least  two  weeks.  Thus,  as 
you  see,  you  will  have  a  full  chance  to  understand  your 
situation,  make  all  necessary  soundings  in  these  strange 
waters,  and  then  you  may  spread  your  canvas  and  sail 
for  home,  or  for  hell,  just  as  you  like." 

At  this  moment  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  door  of 
Nell  Palfry's  splendid  establishment.  Wilson  and  the 
young  lady  were  total  strangers  to  every  one.  He 
straightforwardly  made  all  appropi'iate  arrangements  as 
he  had  promised.  The  female  book-keeper  made  out  and 
receipted  a  bill  for  one  week's  expenses  which  Wilson 
promptly  paid.  Then  he  followed  the  porter  and  the 
trembling  young  lady  up  stairs  to  the  room  which  she 
was  to  occupy  free  from  all  molestation.  Having  satis 
fied  himself  that  all  was  right,  he  politely  bowed  without 
speaking,  and  immediately  returned  to  the  Carlton  hotel. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  A  PROVIDENCE  that  works  by  laws, 

And  moves  in  troops  of  circling  suns, 
Obedient  to  the  spirit  cause, 

Through  life  harmonious  runs." — Harris. 

WILSON  confided  nothing  of  what  had  happened  to 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  293 

Doctor  Du  Bois.  He  kept  the  precious  secret  closely 
locked  in  his  own  bosom.  The  doctor,  however,  observed 
a  change  in  the  countenance  and  deportment  of  his 
moody  and  mysterious  detective. 

"  Strange  book  of  fate !"  said  Wilson  to  himself. 
"  Why  can  not  I  turn  the  leaves  and  read  them  Avhen  I 
will  ?" 

Every  day  for  a  week,  just  before  the  dinner  hour,  he 
called  upon  the  young  lady.  But  he  never  entered  her 
room.  He  inquired  respectfully  at  the  door  whether  she 
needed  any  thing  to  increase  her  comfort.  If  yes,  he 
promptly  procured  at  once  any  little  article  for  which 
she  expressed  a  desire  ;  then  proudly,  and  even  sternly, 
he  bowed,  quickly  closed  the  door  after  him,  and  re 
turned  to  his  hotel. 

Sometimes  he  found  her  in  tears,  and  evidently  bowed 
down  by  the  weight  of  suffering,  lamenting  the  wicked 
ness  of  her  conduct.  But  the  hard-natured  detective  never 
heeded  any  thing  of  it ;  except,  now  and  then,  he  seemed 
to  smile  at  her,  with  a  look  of  insulting  mockery  and 
bitter  contempt  in  his  eyes,  as  though  he  rather  en 
joyed  the  sight  of  her  bursting  tears,  the  sting  of  her 
folly  and  remorse,  her  dread  of  the  world,  her  self-re- 
proachfulness,  and  her  withering  sense  of  shame  and 
mortification. 

One  evening,  for  the  moment  forgetting  the  perpetual 
self-conscious  pride  of  his  nature,  he  carried  her  a  few 
flowers  he  had  gathered.  He  tapped  gently  at  her  door. 
She  opened  it.  He  bowed  calmly  and  gracefully,  stooped 
and  kissed  her  forehead,  then  placed  in  her'  hand  the 
fragrant  blossoms. 

Her  heart  seemed  bursting.  Poor,  beautiful,  unhappy 
child!  Her  girlish  dream  all  vanished.  She  was 
humbled  and  repentant.  The  beloved  idol  of  her  ima 
gination  had  fallen.  Her  tears  would  not  flow.  She 


294  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

was  cold,  and  sick,  and  horror-stricken.  Her  agony  of 
spirit  was  a  thousand  times  worse  than  death,  and  yet 
she  took  the  flowers  from  the  detective's  hand,  and  ex 
claimed,  "  Oh  !  my  poor  forsaken  mother  !  my  mother ! 
my  mother  !" 

"Heavens  !"  replied  "Wilson,  gently  taking  her  hand: 
"  why  do  you  weep,  Miss  Morgan  ?  I  never  learned 
how.  My  mother,  if  I  ever  had  one,  left  me  with  a 
crazy  old  woman  when  I  was  too  young  to  care  much 
about  it.  Possibly  I  was  vilely,  cruelly  wronged  ;  pos 
sibly  it  was  just  what  a  wicked  young  devil  deserved ; 
at  any  rate,  Miss  Morgan,  I  have  never  shed  a  tear  about 
a  mother." 

Her  large,  deep,  blue  eyes  looked  wonderingly  and 
tenderly  into  his  large,  deep,  black  eyes.  She  said, 
mournfully  and  compassionately,  "  Ah,  sir  !  now  I  un 
derstand  why  you  sneer,  and  mutter  curses,  and  use  bit 
ter,  wicked  words." 

During  all  this  time  they  had  been  standing.  N"ow, 
however,  for  the  first  time,  Wilson  helped  her  to  a  chair 
and  seated  himself  in  her  room,  and  near  enough  to  take 
her  hand  in  his.  She  continued,  inquiringly, 

"  Why  do  I  fear  you  ?" 

"  Because,"  she  quickly  replied  to  her  own  question, 
"  you  never  gladdened  the  heart  of  a  mother  ! "  She 
wept.  Again,  thank  God  !  the  tears  would  flow  from 
her  sorrow-stricken  and  terrified  heart. 

"  Miss  Morgan  !"  said  Wilson  soothingly.  "  I  once 
asked  that  crazy  old  woman  to  tell  me  all  she  knew 
about  my  mother ;  but  instead  of  answering  me,  she 
looked  as  solemn  and  mysterious  as  a  Spanish  cathe 
dral." 

The  young  lady  made  no  reply,  but  continued  to 
yield  to  the  tears  that  came  from  her  long-tortured  feel " 
ings. 


REAPING  THE   FEUITS   OF   CRIME.  295 

"  In  three  days,"  said  he,  with  a  slight  tremor  in  his 
voice,  "  you  are  to  decide  about  your  journey — whether 
you  will  return  to  a  pleasant  home,  or  sail  on  a  dreary 
voyage  to " 

He  suddenly  stopped.  She  trembled,  and  could  not 
speak.  A  silence  ensued.  Then,  saying  that  an  engage 
ment  called  him,  he  kissed  her  fair  forehead  again,  polite 
ly  bade  her  good-night,  and  hastened  away. 

When  he  had  gone,  the  half-imprisoned  girl  actually 
kissed  the  flowers  he  had  given  her.  She  wept  over 
them  and  pressed  them  passionately  to  her  bosom.  She 
suddenly  regarded  with  affection  every  thing  he  had 
touched.  She  recalled  his  tones  and  words  of  tender 
ness,  and  strove  to  forget  his  bitterness,  and  wept  and 
forgave  him  in  remembrance  of  his  motherless  child 
hood. 

"O  my  mother!"  she  cried,  "my  wild,  mad  folly 
has  driven  all  happiness  out  of  your  heart..  O  our 
dear,  sweet  home  !  I  can  never  again  return  to  it.  The 
world's  coarse  repulsion,  its  sneers  and  maddening  jeers, 
I  can  never,  never  endure.  Hearts  once  united  in  sweet 
friendship  can  never  meet  again.  O  sweet,  dear,  darling 
mother  !  How  can  I  ever  bear  to  see  your  face  again  ? 
Oh !  I  can  not !  I  can  not !  The  world  will  neither  un 
derstand  nor  forgive  me.  Oh  !  what  shall  I  do  ?  Where 
can  I  go  ?" 

Doctor  Du  Bois  was  in  his  office  when  young  Wilson 
returned  from  the  visit  to  Miss  Morgan.  Something 
oppressed  the  detective.  "  One  of  his  inherited  fits," 
said  the  physician  to  himself. 

He  asked,  "  What's  the  trouble  with  you,  Fred  ?" 

Young  Wilson  immediately  replied,  while  a  red  flush 
suddenly  mounted  to  his  brow,  "  Doctor  !  I  can  hide 
nothing  from  you.  You  are  my  only  wise,  strong,  and 
faithful  friend.  Fate  has  so  far  ruled  me  with  an  iron 


296  TALB   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

hand.  I  have  till  now  hated  every  thing  and  every  body, 
from  my  childhood  up ;  and  I  know  that  I  have  been, 
and  that  I  now  am,  hated  as  horribly  by  every  thing  and 
every  body  in  return." 

*'  Because,"  said  the  doctor,  "  you  have  been  supreme 
ly  selfish.  "  Love,"  he  continued,  "  is  a  wonderful  thrill 
from  the  spirit  of  God.  It  is  the  joy,  the  hope',  the  life, 
the  happiness,  the  prayer,  the  mystery,  the  heavenly 
miracle  of  the  spirit.  Therefore,  Fred,  love  is  divinely 
unselfish — the  infinite  joy  of  the  pure  in  heart.  Now, 
boy,  have  you  found  something  or  somebody  to  regard 
more  tenderly  and  more  faithfully  than  you  regard 
yourself." 

Wilson  related  every  thing  just  as  it  had  happened. 
Then  he  said,  "  Doctor  !  I  forget  myself,  my  own  miser 
able  existence,  when  I  look  into  her  eyes.  Her  presence 
charms  me  like  music."  He  spoke  in  hurried  words  and 
looked  extremely  anxious  as  he  went  on  :  "A  pure  life 
flows  in  her  veins.  She  is  strong  in  will  and  beautiful  in 
person.  But,"  he  added,  thoughtfully  and  despairingly, 
"  She  may  deem  and  denounce  me  as  unworthy,  as  I  am  ; 
besides,  she  may  wish  to  return  to  her  home,  because  I 
have  no  means  of  support." 

The  doctor  kindly  offered  to  take  a  journey  to  Syra 
cuse  in  their  behalf.  He  would  carry  an  explanatory 
and  repentant  letter  from  the  daughter  to  her  afflicted 
parents.  He  could,  he  thought,  gradually  reconcile  them 
to  the  marriage  of  their  daughter  with  his  highly- 
esteemed  detective ;  at  least,  he  would  gladly  render 
any  assistance  in  his  power,  and  pray  with  his  whole 
heart  for  their  perfect  happiness. 

Suddenly,  the  young  man's  face  beamed  with  the  light 
of  a  new  existence.  A  grand,  a  beautiful  hope  burned 
and  blossomed  on  his  pale  cheeks.  The  doctor  looked 
at  him  in  amazement.  His  fine,  black  eyes  seemed  to 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  297 

reflect  the  sunshine  of  another  world.  "Oh  !  the  good 
ness  and  greatness  of  God,"  exclaimed  the  doctor  in  the 
silence  of  his  own  heart.  "  The  holy  miracle  of  love  is 
transforming  the  savage  nature  into  an  angel  of  truth 

o  o  o 

and  beauty." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


"  THE  heart,  the  mind,  the  soul,  the  sense, 

The  being  born  of  love  divine, 
Alone  can  penetrate  the  dense 
And  awful  night  of  time." — Bard. 

O:sr  the  following  day,  at  an  earlier  hour  than  usual, 
Wilson  called  upon  Miss  Morgan  and  said  with  a  har 
monious  and  tender  voice  : 

"  I  come  early  because  I  am  not  happy  away  from 
you.  Never  before  did  I  love  any  body  or  any  thing.  I 
love  you  as  I  love  music." 

"  You  love  me  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  you  love  me  !" 

They  looked  at  one  another  for  a  moment ;  then  they 
sprang  together,  heart  to  heart,  as  angel  meets  angel  on 
the  shining  shore.  They  stood  still,  breathing  into  each 
other's  soul  the  breath  of  life.  Tears  streamed  from  the 
eyes  of  young  Wilson  and  dropped  like  baptismal  rain 
upon  the  golden  hair  of  his  darling  mate. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  either  could  speak.  At  last 
they  seated  themselves  and  commenced  to  talk  of  exist 
ing  circumstances  and  future  plans.  She  was  to  write 
immediately  to  her  parents,  and  thus,  through  the  doc 
tor's  great  kindness,  attempt  a  reconciliation.  They 
would  have  but  a  brief  engagement.  In  a  week  or  two 
13* 


298  TALE  OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

they  would  be  married  ;  and  as  one,  not  two  lives,  they 
would  then  set  out  on  life's  endless  journey. 

The  next  morning's  steamer  for  Albany  carried  Doc 
tor  Du  Bois  on  his  mission  of  good-will. 

Wilson's  mind  was  severely  agitated  with  a  new  prob 
lem.  How  was  he  to  provide  and  suitably  furnish  a 
home  ?  Hour  after  hour  he  paced  the  doctor's  office,  en 
deavoring  to  solve  this  perplexing  question. 

"  One  thing  is  clear,"  he  said,  "  the  love  of  that  heart 
is  richer  than  diamonds — but  I  want  money  to  give  her 
materially  every  thing  beautiful."  He  reflected  for  a 
time,  and  then  continued,  "New-York  is  a  centre  of 
wealth.  Money  is  unjustly  piled  up  mountain  high  by 
mean  and  miserly  men.  They  make  mercantile  and 
financial  webs  like  spiders ;  in  which  they  cunningly 
catch  the  flies  of  fashion,  and  then  drink  all  they  can  get 
out  of  their  victims.  Thus  every  body  is  immersed  in  a 
troubled  sea  of  customary  vices.  Some,  the  most  honest, 
go  under  the  surges  of  trade  ;  others,  more  witty,  ride 
the  waves  like  pirates  and  smugglers.  Now,  I  may 
work  away  with  good  heart  till  doom's  day  and  never  ac 
cumulate  enough  money  to  build  the  smallest  cottage  on 
the  cheapest  land  in  New-Jersey.  Meanwhile  what  will 
become  of  the  darling  of  my  whole  life  ?  I  have  been  a 
homeless  wanderer  from  childhood ;  shall  she  join  me  in 
this  gypsy  style  of  vagabondism  ?  Dark  destinies  arise 
along  our  path.  O  God  !  why  am  I  floating  out  into 
this  whirling  abyss  ?  Fragments  of  my  hope  rush  over 
board  every  time  I  ship  a  sea.  Why  am  I  feeble  while 
so  powerful  ?  Dragons  !  the  devils  and  I  understand 
this  business,  and  I  understand  this  business  of  making 
money.  How  like  a  coward  I  hesitate  !  Hell  is  my 
home,  and  why  do  I  try  to  live  and  breathe  out  of  its  hot 
atmosphere.  No !  I  am  resolved." 

All  that  day  and  all  the  night,  succeeding  the  doctor's 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  299 

absence,  Wilson  devoted  himself  to  preparing  a  key  that 
would  open  the  iron  cash-box  under  the  doctor's  writing 
table.  He  succeeded  at  last,  after  working  and  filing 
the  whole  night  through.  Just  as  the  breakfast-bell 
was  sounded  in  the  hotel,  young  Wilson  became  suddenly 
wealthy,  by  possessing  himself  of  Doctor  Du  Bois's  large 
packages  of  gold  and  silver  and  bank-notes,  all  which 
he  transferred  to  his  own  trunk. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  he  hastened  to  visit  his 
beloved  angel.  With  affection  and  veneration  he  kissed 
her,  and  said,  excitedly, 

"  Let's  leave  New- York  and  sail  for  Madrid." 

"  For  Madrid,  my  darling  ?" 

"Exactly!  Let's  go  and  enjoy  the  world.  Every 
body  goes  to  Europe  when  they've  made  or  stolen  money 
enough  to  pay  expenses.  Now  suppose  you  and  I  take 
a  big  mouthful  of  fashionable  life." 

"  What,  dearest !  leave  our  young,  fresh  America,  and 
live  in  some  old,  stale,  aristocratic  country  among  stran 
gers  ?" 

"  Exactly !  Let's  seek  happiness  by  going  from  place 
to  place — sailing  in  deep  waters,  and  then  drift 
ing  dreamily — floating  for  a  while,  and  then  scudding 
like  clouds  before  the  driving  wind.  Come !  let' s  go  at 
once." 

"  So  soon,  darling  ?"  said  she,  lingeringly,  and  taking  in 
her  hand  the  still  fragrant  flowers  he  had  given  her." 

"  Yes,  why  not  ?  Come,  my  angel !  for  my  sake  do 
not  refuse,"  he  said  pleadingly. 

Her  affectionate  heart,  her  very  existence,  her  hopes 
and  aims,  were  wholly  his  ;  and  she  replied  consentingly, 
"  At  any  time,  my  darling  !  To-night — at  daybreak 
to-morrow — at  any  hour  you  may  name — I  will  be  packed 
and  ready." 

He  clapped  his  hands  with  delight,  kissed  her  with 


300  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

great  tenderness,  and  hastened  away  to  make  prepara 
tions  ;  promising,  as  he  went  out,  to  return  that  very 
evening  and  fix  upon  the  happy  hour  when  they  would 
be  married  and  depart  on  their  wedding  tour  over  the 
perilous  sea. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HE  was  her  own,  her  ocean  treasure,  cast 

Like  a  rich  wreck — her  first  love,  and  her  last." — Casket. 

DOCTOR  Du  Bois's  confidence  in  young  Wilson's 
honesty  had  been  unbounded.  They  carried  duplicate 
keys  to  almost  every  thing  in  and  about  the  office. 

With  his  constitutional  promptness  and  dispatch, 
Wilson  made  all  preparations  for  the  voyage,  even  to  en 
gaging  a  comfortable  room  in  the  cabin  of  the  steamer, 
which  was  to  sail  at  twelve  on  the  morrow.  He  seemed 
perfectly  wild  with  excitement.  Persons  in  and  about 
the  hotel  remarked  the  singular  conduct  of  the  physician's 
handsome  clerk.  He  detected  this  watching,  and  in 
stantly  checked  his  leaping  and  impetuous  actions,  and 
became  apparently  calm.  He  concluded  to  wait  until 
morning  before  removing  his  trunks.  He  was  weary 
from  want  of  sleep,  and  overwhelmed  with  a  kind  of 
paralyzing  fear  that  his  plans  would  miscarry.  In  this 
condition  he  hastened  to  his  beautiful  ange-1.  She  was 
just  in  earnest  conversation  with  a  lady  visitor ;  so 
Wilson,  unobserved  by  either,  stepped  into  an  adjoining 
room  and  quietly  seated  himself  on  the  lounge  and  heard 
every  thing  that  passed  between  them.  Madam  Nelson, 
whose  face  Wilson  had  not  once  seen,  notwithstanding  his 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  301 

frequent  visits  during  the  past  two  weeks,  was  speak 
ing : 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  Miss  Morgan,  these  men  are 
never  to  be  trusted." 

"I  trust  one  man,"  said  the  girl,  tremulously  but 
firmly. 

"Trust  no  man,  my  dear;  for  he  is  certain  to  forsake 
you  ;  he  will  carry  you  into  the  darkness,  and  then  slink 
away  and  disappear  like  a  shadow." 

"  O  madam  !"  she  sadly  exclaimed,  "  I  can  not,  can  not 
doubt  him!  He  has  given  me  his  word  of  honor  and 
his  love." 

"  A  man's  honor  and  a  man's  love,  my  dear,"  replied 
madam,  disdainfully  and  bitterly,  "  are  not  worth  a 
breath  of  wholesome  morning  air." 

The  poor  girl  began  to  weep  bitterly.  "  It  is  horrible, 
madam !  "  she  cried.  "  Your  words  frighten  me  dread 
fully." 

"  Man's  inhumanity  to  woman,"  said  madam,  "  makes 
millions  of  hearts  bleed  with  unspeakable  misery.  But," 
she  added  emphatically,  "  /  defy  and  hate  all  men  alike. 
No  man  can  control  me,  or  impose  upon  any  body  in  my 
house.  If  you,  my  dear,  stay  with  me,  you  shall  be 
treated  and  cared  for  like  every  other  beautiful  girl  in 
my  establishment." 

Fred  Wilson  heard  this  suggestion  with  dismay  and 
indignation.  "  My  God !"  he  mentally  exclaimed, "  that 
woman  uses  to  my  angel  the  very  words  I  have  uttered 
a  thousand  times  about  all  living  women  and  men."  He 
shuddered  and  recoiled  from  the  horrible  feelings  which 
floated  in  the  storm  of  his  thoughts. 

"  I  will  go  with  him  any-where !  everywhere  !"  said 
the  young  girl,  sweetly  and  firmly. 

"Suppose  he  goes  to  hell?"  asked  the  woman  an 
grily. 


302  A  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

"  Then,"  she  replied,  "I,  too,  will  go  to  hell !  Madam !" 
she  continued,  "  I  will  live  and  die  with  the  man  I  love." 

"  Would  to  God,"  said  Madam  Nelson,  mournfully, 
"would  to  God,  my  dear,  that  there  were  a  man  on 
earth  worthy  of  so  much  pure  devotion  !" 

"  O  God !"  silently  sighed  young  Wilson,  despair 
ingly,  "  I  know  that  I  am  not  worthy  of  that  angel's 
love."  He  was  miserable  !  Horrible  memories  of  re 
mote  and  recent  robberies  crowded  like  demons  upon 
his  crazed  and  aching  brain.  Thoughts  of  his  own 
hateful  unworthiness  oppressed  his  spirit  into  deepest  an 
guish. 

He  heard  no  more  conversation.  But  he  could  hear 
the  pattering  feet  and  busy  hands  of  his  angel  making 
preparations  for  the  sea-voyage.  Going  out  upon  the 
stormy  ocean  with  a  man  who  had  robbed  his  best  friend 
and  benefactor !  This  reflection  overwhelmed  him. 
Presently,  however,  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  sweet  singer. 
It  was  in  the  house,  and  on  the  same  floor,  at  the  oppo 
site  end  of  the  hall.  He  opened  his  door  a  little  more  to  let 
the  sti'ains  float  into  his  room.  He  listened  with  breath 
less  Attention.  "My  God !  my  God  !"  he  groaned  to  him 
self.  "  I  have  been  all  my  life  waiting  for  this  very  mo 
ment."  His  soul  experienced  a  sudden  rectification.  A 
new  spirit  seemed  to  enter  him  as  by  magic.  He  wept 
and  inwardly  thanked  God.  The  thrilling  vibrations  of 
the  harp  accompaniment  filled  his  soul  with  ecstatic  de 
light.  The  sweet,  soft  angelic  voice — so  plaintive — so 
wailing — so  sorrow-stricken — so  healing — so  penetrating 
— so  infinitely  despairing — so  full  of  angel's  wings — so 
tearfully  pleading — so  imploring — so  mysteriously  di 
vine  !  He  became  a  new  man !  Oh !  how  many,  many 
years  he  had  been  waiting  for  this  new  birth  ! 

Cautiously  he  stole  on  tip-toe  along  the  richly  carpet 
ed  hall  to  the  door  of  the  chamber  whence  emanated  that 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  303 

heavenly  voice.  He  distinctly  saw  her.  It  was  Madame 
Nelson  !  The  lady  from  whom,  when  a  mere  boy,  under 
the  guidance  of  Captain  Nelson,  he  had  stolen  the  box  of 
diamonds  ! 

He  bowed  his  head  and  groaned  with  indescribable 
anguish.  He  felt  that  his  physical  strength  was  rapidly 
failing.  Hurriedly  he  retraced  his  steps.  He  prostrated 
himself  on  the  lounge  in  utter  helplessness.  Darkness 
quickly  gathered  upon  every  thing.  All  sounds  of  the 
world  receded.  He  swooned  away  into  deep  uncon 
sciousness. 

When  he  came  to  himself  he  was  stretched  upon  his 
own  bed  in  the  office  of  Doctor  Du  Bois.  He  had  return 
ed  in  his  somnambulic  condition.  His  trance  had  con 
tinued  many  hours.  He  was  alone !  His  first  thoughts 
were  concerning  the  packages  of  gold  and  silver  and 
bank-notes  he  had  stolen  from  his  benefactor.  Hastily, 
but  with  the  utmost  care,  he  transferred  every  package 
from  his  trunk  to  its  own  place  in  the  iron  box,  which  he 
immediately  locked  with  the  key  he  had  worked  so  long 
to  make.  He  took  a  hammer  and  a  chisel  and  pounded 
the  key  into  the  smallest  fragments.  Then  falling  upon 
his  knees,  he  exclaimed — "  O  my  God  !  O  holy  angels  ! 
I  thank  thee  !  I  thank  thee  !  I  thank  thee !  " 

While  he  was  thus  thanking  Heaven  for  his  deliver 
ance  from  evil,  the  noble  doctor  arrived. 

"  Ah  Fred ! "  said  the  physician  cheerfully,  "  I  expect 
ed  to  find  you  praying  for  my  success.  Your  prayer  is 
answered,  my  boy !  I  bring  with  me  a  letter  of  full 
pardon  from  both  father  and  mother  !  It  was  an  appall 
ing  sorrow  to  the  doting  mother;  and  the  father,  too, 
deemed  his  daughter's  conduct  a  bitter  and  a  monstrous 
thing  ;  but,  as  I  anticipated,  they  were  only  too  glad  to 
receive  intelligence  that  no  harm  had  befallen  the  run 
away  girl.  Arise,  therefore,  young  man !  you  have  at 


304  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

last  found  an  angel  of  love  !  Now  may  you  with  her 
enter  in. at  the  strait  gate  of  purity  and  happiness!" 

No  words  can  describe  the  feelings,  many  and  con 
flicting,  which  filled  the  breast  of  young  detective  Wil 
son.  .He  wept  like  a  child.  He  was  thankful  for  so 
much  more  than  he  dared  confide  to  the  now  beloved 
physician.  But  one  thing,  however,  he  did  disclose,  in 
these  words,  "  O  doctor !  I  have  heard  the  music  which 
has  been  my  dream,  both  sleeping  and  waking,  since  my 
earliest  recollection." 

"A  childish  dream  actualized,  eh?"  said  the  phy 
sician. 

"  Wonderful  music !  "  exclaimed  Fred,  half  suffocated 
with  indescribable  emotion.  "  And  to-morrow,  doctor, 
you  shall  accompany  me  to  see  the  lady  whom  from  this 
hour,  I  must  call  my  soul's  redeemer." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

"  TIIE  tooth  of  Time 

Has  ground  the  marble  sculptures  to  rude  forms, 
Such  as  the  falling  waters  eat  from  rocks 
In  the  deep  gloom  of  caves." — Percival. 

IMMEDIATELY  after  breakfast  on  the  following  morning 
the  physician  and  his  assistant  seated  themselves  in  the 
office  to  enjoy  a  season  of  most  earnest  conversation. 

"  Come,"  said  the  doctor,  "  describe  to  me,  if  you  pos 
sibly  can,  the  singing  of  that  sweet-voiced  lady  ;  and  de 
scribe  also  how  it  affected  you." 

Young  Wilson's  eyes  immediately  filled  with  tears. 
"  With  hushed  breath,"  at  last  he  said,  "  and  with  palpi 
tating  heart,  sir,  I  listened  to  the  wonderful  strains.  O 
sir !  I  have  no  words  with  which  to  tell  you  what  it  did 


REAPING  THB   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  305 

for  me.  I  seemed  like  a  wicked  wanderer  on  some  wave- 
beaten  shore,  heart-sick  and  weary  of  existence,  when 
lo !  suddenly,  the  fearful  loveliness  of  heaven's  broad 
beautiful  field  seemed  to  open  upon  my  vision.  A  fair- 
handed  and  beautiful-faced  woman  appeared  in  ttte  sky, 
dressed  in  purest  virgin  white,  singing ;  and  there  was 
in  her  right  hand  a  simple  flower,  which  she  extended 
toward  me,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  music  of  her 
song  seemed  to  burst  through  my  hateful  bosom;  it 
touched  and  unfolded,  with  its  bright  magical  waves,  a 
new  existence  in  me ;  and  instantly,  sir,  I  bent  low  my 
proud  head  and  worshiped  her  as  God's  messenger  of 
love  and  salvation  to  universal  mankind.  O  sir ! "  he 
continued,  wavering  and  trembling  like  a  girl,  with  heart 
felt  emotion,  "  I  have  no  words — no  words  to  tell  you 
all  that  happened.  As  soon  as  I  devoutly  worshiped, 
sir,  all  nature  immediately  became  beautiful,  and  unnum 
bered  strains  of  slow,  sweet  music  seemed  to  drop  like 
gentlest  spring  rains  upon  the  black  wilderness  of  human, 
savage  sinners.  Then,  suddenly,  sir,  every  body,  and 
every  thing  began  to  breathe  forth  infinite  purities  and 
delicacies,  and  the  whole  round  world  seemed  to  bloom 
with  endless  beauty;  and,  sir,  while  listening  and  look 
ing  thus,  my  hateful  strength  began  to  stream  out  of  me 
like  poisonous  vapors,  and  as  fast  as  it  went  out  I  felt  a 
heavenly  gentleness  and  a  delicate  tenderness  pervading 
my  existence ;  and  then,  sir,  a  mysterious  fainting  came 
upon  me,  and  I  felt  like  floating  up  into  the  sky  very 
near  to  the  beautiful  woman ;  and  just  as  I  felt  that  I 
was  going  out  of  the  body  and  out  of  my  wickedness  to 
where  she  stood,  I  suddenly  recognized  in  her  my  own 
mother!  She  seemed  to  be  a  loving-hearted  friend,  a 
comforter,  a  consoler,  an  angel  of  goodness  !  But,  sir, 
as  soon  as  I  knew  that  she  was  my  own  mother,  and 
that  it  was  she  who  had  been  singing  the  song  I  had 


306  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

longed  to  hear  from  my  earliest  childhood,  my  heart 
seemed  to  stop  beating,  and  I  thought  that  I  groaned 
aloud, thanked  God,  and  suddenly  died!" 

"  My  God ! "  exclaimed  the  doctor  in  great  agony, 
"  She  is  dead  !  This  revelation  is  like  tearing  the  heart 
from  my  bosom ! " 

Naturally,  Wilson  was  astounded  at  the  noble  man's 
expression.  He  bent  forward  to  embrace  his  benefac 
tor.  But  the  sharp  rapping  of  the  hotel-servant  on  the 
door  suddenly  checked  further  conversation. 

"  Gone !  "  said  the  doctor,  in  a  voice  of  the  deepest 
bereavement.  "  Gone !  leaving  me  in  a  wild  and  bois 
terous  world.  Gone  !  the  lovely  lady  of  heavenly  treas 
ures.  Gone !  leaving  me  a  lone  rock  in  this  deep  sea  of 
human  sorrow." 

The  servant  announced  Lawyer  Ruggleston  and  a 
police-officer. 

"  Captain  John  Nelson  is  arrested,"  said  the  lawyer, 
addressing  Doctor  DuBois. 

"  Ah,  monsieur !  you  bring  startling  news.  How  did 
it  happen  ?" 

"He  was  arrested,"  the  lawyer  replied,  "yesterday 
morning,  for  shooting  and  instantly  killing  the  police 
man  O'Conners,  one  of  the  most  faithful  and  efficient 
officers  on  the  force  in  this  city." 

"  Ah !  can  you  relate  any  of  the  details  ?  " 

"  Several  witnesses,"  replied  the  lawyer,  "  testified  be 
fore  the  coroner's  inquest  to  seeing  the  prisoner  in  com 
pany  with  a  tall,  slim  man,  with  a  smooth  red  face  and 
a  sandy  mustache,  dressed  in  the  United  States  militia 
uniform,  and  lurking  in  the  area  of  an  uptown  residence 
very  early  yesterday  morning.  Witnesses  thought  the 
men  were  drunk,  and  paid  no  further  attention  to  them. 
But  suddenly  hearing  a  pistol-shot  they  looked  and  saw 
a  respectable  citizen  prostrated  on  the  sidewalk,  welter- 


KEAPINQ  THE  FRUITS   OF   CKIME.  307 

ing  in  his  blood,  and  at  the  same  moment  they  saw  the 
two  men  running  east  toward  the  Bowery,  and  two 
policemen  after  them.  The  tall,  slim  soldier  jumped 
over  a  fence  and  suddenly  disappeared.  But  Nelson  kept 
to  the  street  and  fled  rapidly.  Seeing  he  was  about  to 
be  captured,  the  prisoner  halted,  drew  his  pistols,  and 
kept  the  policemen  at  bay  by  threatening  to  murder 
them  instantly.  They  fired  twice  at  him,  but  without 
wounding  him  seriously.  Then  he  ran  into  the  Bowery 
and  jumped  into  a  doorway  which  happened  to  be  lock 
ed.  A  large  crowd  had  now  collected.  The  prisoner 
swore  he  would  not  surrender.  It  was  a  desperate  job 
for  the  officers,  for  they  wanted  to  take  the  murderer 
alive.  An  Irishman  seized  a  sled-stake  and  gave  him  a 
heavy  blow  across  the  legs.  Still  he  stood  up  and  stub 
bornly  refused  to  yield,  and  compelling  the  police  to  keep 
their  distance  by  threatening  to  shoot  the  first  man  who 
touched  him.  At  that  fatal  moment  the  brave  O'Con- 
ners  rushed  up  and  seized  the  prisoner  by  both  arms. 
Bu4  the  officer  dropped  dead  upon  the  stones  the  very 
next  moment,  having  received  a  ball  from  Nelson's  pis 
tol  through  his  heart." 

"  Very  well,  very  well,"  replied  the  doctor,  calmly  : 
"  can  either  of  us  assist  you  or  the  prisoner  ?" 

Young  Wilson,  strange  to  say,  manifested  not  the 
least  of  his  former  terrible  fierceness  whenever  Nelson's 
name  was  mentioned  in  his  presence. 

"  The  next  five  days,"  said  Mr.  Ruggleston,  "will 
undoubtedly  be  very  interesting  to  you,  who  are  study 
ing  into  the  causes  of  crime.  Therefore  I  advise  you 
to  attend  the  legal  investigations  in  the  case  of  this  re 
markable  prisoner." 

Wilson  hastened  to  his  angel  at  the  establishment  of 
Madame  Palfry.  He  was  delighted  to  place  in  her  hand 
the  letter  of  pardon  from  her  parents.  He  explained 


308  TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

every  thing  to  her,  engaged  and  paid  for  board  for  anoth 
er  week,  and  then  hurried  back  to  attend  the  trial  of 
Captain  Nelson. 

The  prisoner  sat  where  the  doctor  and  his  assistant 
could  plainly  see  his  stern  brow,  his  burning  eye,  his 
quivering  lips,  and  the  fiendish  expression  of  baffled  ven 
geance,  which  imparted  a  terrible  grimace  to  his  once 
handsome  countenance.  Lawyer  Stryker,  whom  Nelson 
had  engaged  as  counsel,  was  carefully  noting  evidence 
with  a  view  to  an  argument  for  defense.  There  was  an 
unnatural  indifference  manifested  by  the  prisoner.  But 
every  other  person  in  that  crowded  assembly  was  affect 
ed  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement  by  the  cold-blood 
ed  tragedy.  The  evidence  against  Nelson  was  clear  and 
positive,  and  his  able  counsel  himself  seemed  overwhelm 
ed  with  the  horrible  developments. 

Suddenly  the  prisoner  sprang  to  his  feet.  For  the  in 
stant  he  looked  calm  and  grand  as  a  great  king  in  cap 
tivity.  "  Dragons  ! "  he  fiercely  exclaimed,  "  would  ye 
plunge  your  daggers  into  the  bosom  of  your  ch^2f? 
Would  ye  kill  the  master-devil  in  your  sheltering  hell  ? 
Look  here  !  "  he  cried  with  terrible  energy,  tearing  apart 
his  garments  and  baring  his  bosom  to  the  spectators,  and 
pointing  his  trembling  finger  at  the  bleeding  wound 
made  years  before  by  the  outraged  lady.  "  Look  here  ! 
the  devil  is  sucking  my  blood.  Let  him  drink !  Ha,  ha, 
ha !  Let  the  thirsty  devil  drink  !  "  His  frenzied  and  hor 
rible  eyes  looked  at  the  judges,  lawyers,  witnesses,  and 
then  proudly,  defiantly  he  surveyed  the  assembled  citi 
zens.  "  What ! "  lie  shouted,  "  would  ye  murder  a  chief 
dragon !  assassinate  a  descendant  of  the  invincible  Span 
ish  warrior  and  hellish  libertine,  Don  Huara  Marigny ! 
Would  ye  degrade  a  man  who  had  a  he-devil  for  a  father 
and  a  she-devil  for  a  mother  !  What !  kill  the  sole  heir 
to  the  rich  Spanish  estates  of  old  Carmo  Del  Aragoni, 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  309 

whose  royal  name  I  bear !    Stand  back,  dragons !  back,  I 
say ! " 

Then  on  the  instant,  and  with  the  spring  of  a  panther, 
the  prisoner  jumped  over  the  railing  and  ran  furiously 
toward  the  door.  But  the  crowd  impeded  his  flight  and 
quickly  bound  him  hand  and  foot. 

"  Spare  him !"  said  Wilson,  with  true  pity  in  his 
voice.  "  Spare  him  !  O  doctor  !  my  noble  benefactor ! 
can  you  not  prescribe  a  remedy  for  him  ?" 

"  My  dear  young  man,"  replied  the  physician,  with 
deep  emotion  mingled  with  amazement  at  the  revelation 
the  prisoner  had  made,  "  the  captain  is  hopelessly  in 
sane  !  He  has  been,"  continued  the  doctor,  "  from  birth 
affected  with  a  filial  madness  and  a  moral  perversion, 
which  were  continually  manifested  in  his  extraordinary 
criminal  conduct  through  life ;  but  now  the  madness  of 
the  affections  and  the  perversion  of  the  moral  faculties 
have  culminated  in  an  intellectual  derangement  of  the 
most  violent,  hopeless,  and  enduring  type." 

The  doctor's  diagnosis  of  his  case  was  complete.  And 
so  Captain  Nelson,  whose  real  name  he  had  disclosed  in 
his  raving,  was  conveyed  to  the  New-York  Asylum. 
The  hemorrhage  in  his  bosom  was  stopped,  but  his  hor 
rible  symptoms  and  paroxysms  increased  in  violence. 
Behold  him,  O  reader !  Chiaruggi's  description,  applied 
to  the  poor  fellow's  condition,  is  not  overdrawn  : 

"  We  are  struck  by  impetuous,  audacious,  shameless, 
habits ;  a  bold,  menacing  aspect ;  the  skin  presents  a  slaty 
color;  the  forehead  contracted  ;  the  eyebrows  drawn  up  ; 
the  hair  bristled  ;  the  breathing  hurried.  The  counte 
nance  begins  to  glow ;  the  eyes  become  fiery  and  spark 
ling  ;  the  looks  are  wandering,  and  scarcely  ever  fixed  ; 
the  eyelids  are  by  turns  drawn  widely  open  and  close, 
ly  shut ;  the  eyeballs  are  prominent,  as  if  pushed  for 
ward  out  of  the  orbits.  With  this  wild  and  menacing 


310  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

appearance  are  combined  a  patient  endurance  of  hunger 
and  a  remarkable  insensibility  of  cold.  If  sleep  visits  the 
patient  at  all,  it  is  short,  unquiet,  and  easily  disturbed. 
In  the  second  stage,  anger,  violence,  and  the  loss  of 
reason  manifest  themselves  in  their  greatest  intensity  ; 
shrieking,  roaring,  raging,  abusive  expressions  and  con 
duct  toward  the  dearest  friends  and  the  nearest  rela 
tions,  who  are  now  looked  upon  as  the  bitterest  enemies. 
The  patient  tears  his  clothes  to  tatters,  destroys,  breaks 
in  pieces  whatever  comes  in  his  way.  A  striking  and 
characteristic  circumstance  is  the  propensity  to  go  quite 
naked.  Whoever  touches  the  patient  is  abused  or 
struck  by  him.  Strange,  confused  ideas,  absurd  preju 
dices  occupy  his  mind.  Stillness  soon  follows,  or  a  mur 
muring  sound,  as  if  the  patient  were  alone  :  on  the  other 
hand,  when  he  is  alone,  talking  and  gesticulating  as  if 
he  were  in  company. 

"  If  individuals  (with  this  type  of  insanity)  are  con 
fined  and  tied  during  the  height  of  their  paroxysms,  for 
their  own  security  or  that  of  others,  nothing  can  bo 
compared  to  the  truly  satanical  expression  which  their 
countenances  display.  In  this  state  they  throw  hastily 
away,  with  cries  and  shrieks,  all  the  food  presented  to 
them,  except  fluids,  which  thirst  compels  them  to  re 
ceive.  When,  after  some  days,  hunger  begins  to  be  felt, 
they  swallow  every  thing  with  brutal  greediness ;  they 
.  even  devour,  as  it  has  often  been  observed,  their  own 
excrements,  which,  black  and  offensive,  escape  from  them 
in  great  quantity,  or  smear  with  them  clothes,  beds,  and 
Avails. 

"  Notwithstanding  his  constant  exertion  of  mind  and 
body,  the  muscular  strength  of  the  patient  seems  daily 
to  increase;  he  is  able  to  break  the  strongest  bonds,  and 
even  chains ;  his  limbs  seem  to  acquire  a  remarkable 
nimbleness  and  pliability,  and  a  singular  aptitude  of  per- 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.        311 

forming  movements  and  actions  which  appear  almost 
supernatural. 

"  It  has  often  been  observed  that  maniacal  patients  of 
this  description  are  never  attacked  by  any  epidemic,  and 
are  seldom  affected  by  any  contagious  malady.  Accord 
ing  to  Mead  and  many  others,  even  consumptive  dis 
orders,  dropsies,  and  other  chronic  maladies,  have  disap 
peared  on  the  accession  of  violent  insanity.  When 
patients  are  not  freed  from  the  disease  after  a  succession 
of  attacks,  which  come  on  like  so  many  paroxysms  of 
fever,  one  or  other  of  the  following  events  ensues : 
either  the  powers  of  mind  are  exhausted  to  that  degree 
that  the  disease  subsides  into  a  permanent  fatuity  ;  or 
this  appearance  of  fatuity  is  only  a  space  of  calmness  in 
terposed  between  relapses  of  violent  madness,  which 
now  and  then  break  out,  like  the  eruptions  of  a  volcano, 
after  a  long  period  of  repose ;  or  the  patient  falls  into  a 
state  of  melancholy,  or  of  complete  mental  confusion  ; 
or  finally,  his  madness  becomes  chronical,  and  he  scarce 
ly  recovers  from  this  condition,  in  which  sense  and  un 
derstanding  appear  to  be  lost  in  incoherence.  Chiarug- 
gi  saAV  a  woman  who  had  sat  during  twenty-five  years 
on  a  stone  floor,  in  a  fearfully  demented  state,  beating 
the  ground  with  her  chains  without  ceasing  by  day  or 
by  night." 

Thus  sadly  rolls  down  the  red  curtain  upon  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  embodiments  of  hereditary  hate  and 
therefore  inborn  love  of  crime ;  which  horrible  inversion 
of  naturally  noble  mental  power,  and  which  incurable 
perversion  of  tender  affections  and  moral  feelings,  might 
have  been  prevented,  according  to  the  doctor's  theory, 
by  his  parents  at  the  inception  and  during  the  utero- 
development  of  his  life  ;  but  taking  his  case  as  it  was, 
the  doctor  maintained  that  his  virulent  nature  could 
have  been  greatly  modified  by  the  judicious  kindness  1>f 
his  more  fortunate  fellow-men. 


312  TALK   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

"  HE  who  plants  within  our  hearts 

All  this  deep  affection, 
Giving  when  the  form  departs 

Fadeless  recollection, 
Will  but  clasp  the  unbroken  chain 
Closer  when  we  meet  again." — Stowe. 

ALTHOUGH  young  Wilson  had  told  the  doctor  every 
thing  concerning  his  first  acquaintance  and  subsequent 
marriage  engagement  with  Miss  Mary  Morgan,  yet  he 
had — for  some  reason  best  known  to  himself — concealed 
the  startling  fact  that  she,  his  own  darling  mate,  was 
boarding  at  Nell  Palfry's  notorious  establishment.  Was 
it  possible  ?  Could  any  single  person  ever  have  his  or 
her  true  counterpai't  sojourning  in  the  very  heart  of 
temptation,  dissipation,  and  sin? 

It  was  long  after  dark,  however,  before  they  set  out  to 
gether  to  call  upon  Fred's  beloved  angel.  They  went 
also  to  see  the  lady,  the  breath  of  whose  song  had  float 
ed  so  far  on  high,  and  which  had  so  changed  and  satis 
fied  Wilson's  strange  disposition. 

They  were  readily  admitted  to  the  brilliant  saloon. 
Its  splendid  allurements  and  free  festivities  were  most 
apparent.  The  doctor  was  immeasurably  astonished. 
In  fact,  he  was  on  the  instant  half-inclined  to  be  angry 
with  Wilson,  for  immediately  he  discovered  the  cour 
tesan  and  libertine  character  of  the  gorgeous  institution. 

"  And  yet,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  I  should  not  be 
narrow  and  blind.  I  must  study  and  sympathize  with 
human  life  in  all  its  forms  and  manifestations." 

Thus   he   calmed   himself.     After   walking   leisurely 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  313 

through  all  the  apartments,  so  splendidly  furnished  with 
every  desirable  luxury,  and  so  filled  and  animated  with 
well-dressed  gentlemen  and  brilliantly  decorated  young 
ladies,  they  proceeded  to  Miss  Morgan's  private  room. 

While  going  up  the  broad  staircase,  so  luxuriously 
carpeted,  they  heard  a  sudden  cry  of  pain.  Several 
girls  rushed  toward  Madame  Palfry's  chamber.  They 
screamed  with  fright.  One  of  them  ran  out  into  the  hall 
calling  aloud  for  any  body  who  was  a  physician.  Doctor 
Du  Bois  politely  offered  his  medical  services.  Leaving 
Wilson,  he  went  immediately  to. the  patient.  It  was 
Madame  Palfry  herself,  who  had  suddenly  fallen  in  a 
swoon,  and  looked  like  one  dead  upon  the  floor.  The 
terrified  girls  loosened  her  dress,  bathed  her  forehead 
and  temples,  meanwhile  crying  over  her,  and  kissing  and 
caressing  her,  like  so  many  frightened  children  gathered 
around  their  dying  mother.  As  soon,  however,  as  the 
doctor  could  gain  access  to  her  he  administered  a  homeo 
pathic  remedy,  and  immediately  commenced  to  magnet 
ize  her  in  his  usual  graceful  and  tranquilizing  manner. 
He  was  at  once  impressed  with  her  great  personal  beau 
ty.  There  was  a  something  in  the  expression  of  her  fair 
face  which  affected  him  almost  supernaturally.  Still  he 
continued  his  manipulations,  and  strove  not  to  neglect 
his  duty  as  her  physician.  But  the  swoon  was  pro 
tracted,  and  many  of  her  symptoms  seemed  unfavorable. 
Presently,  however,  her  breathing  became  apparent,  and 
while  the  doctor  was  making  the  healing  passes  over 
her  head  and  face,  she  suddenly  exclaimed — 

"  O  good  doctor  !  where  were  you  when  I  suffered  ? 
Why  did  you  not  come  when  my  heart  was  breaking  ?" 

"My  God!"  cried  the  physician:  '•'•Sophia  del  Ara- 
goni /" 

He  was  indescribably  overwhelmed,  and  seemed  about 
to  fall  like  one  stricken  down  by  a  thunderbolt.  But 
14 


314  .        TALE  OF  A  PHYSICIAN 

in  the  presence  of  so  many  spectators  he  was  forced  in 
to  self-possession. 

Again,  in  a  voice  scarcely  audible,  she  spoke : 

"  Oh  !  that  you  had  come  before  I  had  crushed  all  good 
ness  out  of  my  heart !" 

"  Sophia  !  my  darling  !"  said  the  extremely  agitated 
doctor,  whisperingly,  so  that  the  anxious,  listening  girls 
who  were  grouping  around  the  lady  could  not  hear — "  My 
angel !  I  am  now  here  to  save  you,  and  to  take  you  out  of 
all  sorrow." 

The  pulsations  of  her  heart  became  suddenly  violent, 
as  though  a  great  pain  was  grappling  with  and  threat 
ening  her  very  life.  Her  breath  came  quick  and  fre 
quent,  like  one  running  in  a  dream  to  escape  the  devour 
ing  jaws  of  some  appalling  monster. 

After  a  little  time  she  again  swooned  down  into  that 
solemn  stillness  which  often  heralds  the  rapid  approach 
of  death. 

Her  death-like  entrancement  and  unconsciousness  per 
sistently  continued.  Doctor  Du  Bois,  however,  com 
prehended  her  condition  perfectly.  He  became  calm 
and  happy  beyond  expression.  He  immediately  quieted 
the  apprehensions  of  those  who  had  gathered  lovingly 
about  her. 

"  Young  ladies,"  he  professionally  said,  "  as  her  phy 
sician  I  am  constrained  to  enforce  entire  stillness  in  this 
chamber.  Leave  the  patient  in  my  charge,  therefore ; 
and  should  assistance  be  required,  I  will  forthwith  apprise 
you  by  ringing  the  bell."  They  unhesitatingly  obeyed. 
He  was  thus  left  alone  with  the  idol  of  his  manly  and 
long-watting  heart. 

He  heard  arising  from  the  saloons  the  rollicking  mer 
riment  and  sinful  entertainments  of  the  renowned  palace 
of  pleasure. 

A  great  and  final  trial  of  conjugal  love  had  now  come 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  315 

to  him.  Should  he  recoil  ffora  the  cherished  but  fallen 
angel  ?  Should  he  turn  away  and  abandon  her  forever  ? 
How  had  she  arrived,  step  by  step,  through  all  inherited 
struggles  and  through  all  the  manifold  temptations  of  a 
changeful  life,  to  this  horrible  dwelling  of  vice  and  de 
struction  ?  What  oppression  of  want,  what  desolation 
of  heart,  what  wreck  of  hope,  what  uncontrollable  pas 
sion  was  it  that  had  changed  the  lovely  Creole  beauty, 
with  her  grand,  elevated,  sublime  spirit,  into  this  bril 
liant  Aspasia  of  unmixed  iniquity  and  wretchedness  ? 
His  conflicting  and  miserable  thoughts — his  painful  and 
searching  questionings — have  been  thus  faithfully  em 
bodied  v 

"  On  her  chain  of  life  is  rust, 
On  her  spirit- wing  is  dust ; 
She  hath  let  the  spoiler  in, 
She  hath  mated  her  with  sin, . 
She  hath  opened  wide  the  door, 
Crime  has  passed  the  threshold  o'er. 
Wherefore  has  she  gone  astray  ? 
Stood  Temptation  in  her  way, 
With  its  eyes  so  glittering  bright, 
Clothed  in  angel  robes  of  white  ? 

"  Pause !  her  story  soon  is  told  : 
Once  a  lamb  within  the  fold, 
Stranger  voices  lured  her  thence, 
In  her  spotless  innocence. 
Woe !  she  had  not  strength  to  keep 
With  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep  ; 
For  the  fleece,  so  spotless  white, 
Hence  became  the  hue  of  night, 
And  she  stood  in  her  despair, 
Bleating  for  the  Shepherd's  care. 

"  Woe !  that  none  might  lead  her  back 
From  the  bloodhounds  on  her  track. 
Hunger  prowled  about  her  path, 


316  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN-. 

With  a  wild  hyena  laugh  ; 
Scorn  came  leaping  from  its  lair, 
With  defiant  growl  and  stare  : 
And  she  grappled,  all  in  vain, 
With  the  fangs  of  Want  and  Pain : 
Hope  and  Mercy  shut  the  gate 
On  this  heart  so  desolate. 

"  So  she  turned  again  to  Sin ! 
What  had  she  to  lose  or  win  ? 
Resting  on  her  life  a  stain 
Deeper  than  the  brand  of  Cain, 
Heard  she  not  a  pitying  tone  ? 
Weeping  in  her  shame  alone  ? 
Was  there  not  a  human  heart 
In  her  anguish  bore  a  part  ? 
None  to  hold  a  beacon  light 
Up  before  her  darkened  sight  ? 

"  No :  the  altar  was  not  there, 
For  a  canting  priesthood's  prayer  ; 
'  She  hath  fallen!  let  her  die,' 
Said  the  Levite  passing  by. 
So  she  turned  again  to  Sin — 
What  had  she  to  lose  or  win  ?" 

These  terrifying  questions,  these  half  rebellious 
thoughts  and  half  forgiving  feelings,  struggled  with  the 
soft  yet  powerful  pleadings  of  immortal  love,  which  glow 
ed  and  bloomed  in  the  manly  bosom  of  good  Doctor  Du 
Bois. 

He  arose  and  cautiously  approached  the  beautiful  pa 
tient.  He  contemplated  her  with  a  heart-agony  no  words 
can  express.  He  saw  a  holy  light,  and  through  it  re 
ceived  a  new  revelation.  He  saw  prostrated  before  him 
a  noble,  sensitive,  intelligent  spirit.  It  was  perfectly  con 
scious  of  its  own  weaknesses  and  consequent  misfortunes. 
Yet  aspiration  and  hope  lingered,  and  beamed  upon  her 
deathly-pale  countenance.  He  saw  that  there  was  a  fade- 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  317 

less  beauty  in  her  nature — a  hidden,  celestial  attraction, 
which  no  sin  of  accident  or  passion  had  touched.  He 
was  inexpressibly  charmed.  A  sublime  mystery  floated 
out  from  her  soul  into  his.  It  glimmered  beautifully 
upon  the  hopeless  and  tempest-rocked  sea  of  sorrowing 
and  despairing  affection.  It  shone  upon  his  heart  with 
•  the  holy  light  of  anew  world  in  the  distant,  starry  heavens. 
A  celestial,  loving  light  trembled  upon  her  closed  and 
sleeping  eyelids.  It  entered  his  most  interior  existence. 
It  illuminated  the  beautiful  memories  and  lovely  dreams 
of  long-vanished  years.  A  bewildering  beauty  gleamed 
from  her  being.  And  from  her  sweet  lips  a  prayer  float 
ed  out  like  heavenly  music,  soft  and  low  ;  it  sounded  in 
the  temple  of  his  love, 

"  Like  the  rushing  of  waves  o'er  the  distant  sea, 
Or  the  wind's  hushed  breath  o'er  the  flowery  lea." 

What  did  he  receive  from  her  ?  Ah !  she,  whom  all  the 
world  had  long  condemned  and  shunned,  had  brought  to 
him  a  fulfillment  of  all  his  sacred  dreams — a  revelation  of 
pure,  infinite  love,  which  lifts  the  heart,  and  carries  its 
imperishable  treasures  over  and  beyond  all  ephemeral 
circumstances;  a  love  which  triumphs  over  all  the  crimes 
of  fleeting  passions,  which  survives  all  the  perversions 
that  arise  from  the  accidents  of  birth,  and  life,  and  death 
— infinite  love,  shining  from  God  through  her  white  face 
into  the  long-closed  chambers  of  his  faithful  heart.  "  O 
God !  "  he  silently  said,  "  I  thank  thee  that  my  bodily  life 
has  been  preserved  so  long,  and  that  my  spirit  has  been 
faithful  to  the  fixed  and  unalterable  laws  of  love." 

Suddenly  the  patient  groaned.  She  clasped  her  hands 
upon  her  bosom.  In  whisper-tones  she  prayed,  but  in  the 
lan^uao-e  of  her  Catholic  education  : 

O  O 

"  O  our  Father  who  art  in  heaven  !     O  blessed  Virgin 
Mother  of  Jesus  Christ !      O  our  Mediator  and  Advo- 
14* 


318  TALE   OF  A   PHYSICIAN. 

cate  !  O  holy  Angels  of  light !  receive  the  thanks  of  my 
grateful  heart  for  the  bestowment  of  this  precious  trea 
sure — the  love  of  my  own  darling  husband.  These  vain 
amusements,  these  sinful  entertainments,  these  oifensive 
diversions,  thanks  to  thee,  O  our  Father !  have  not  enter 
ed,  have  not  overthrown  and  destroyed,  the  sanctuary  of 
my  inner  and  true  life.  I  am  saved !  saved  ! " 

Immediately  her  breathing  became  short  and  quick, 
and  a  profound  swoon  instantly  supervened.  It  contin 
ued  for  more  than  an  hour,  notwithstanding  the  doctor's 
persistent  efforts,  by  means  of  the  magnetic  passes,  to  re 
store  her  circulation  and  sensibility.  At  last,  however, 
she  returned  perfectly  to  her  normal  consciousness.  At 
once  she  raised  herself  to  a  sitting  posture  and  commen 
ced  looking  inquiringly  around  the  room.  Then  she 
gazed  straight  into  the  honest  eyes  of  the  polite  and  mod 
est  physician. 

"  Sir !"    she  demanded  half  angrily,  "  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Sophia  del  Aragoui !"  he  said,  trembling  with  min 
gling  joy  and  tenderness,  "  I  am  your  own  friend,  Doctor 
La  Force  Du  Bois  !  " 

With  a  sudden  cry  of  passionate  joy,  she  sprang  into 
his  arms.  Heart  to  heart,  soul  to  soul,  as  angels,  long 
separated,  meet  and  embrace  in  the  imperishable  homes 
of  heaven. 

"  My  darling ! "  "  My  darling ! "  both  exclaimed  at  the 
same  joyful  moment.  Then  whole  hours  rushed  by  with 
the  speed  of  seconds  to  the  happy  companions  of  an  eter 
nal  life. 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF  CRIME.  319 


CHAPTER   XX. 

"  WKAPPED  in  the  silence  of  the  brooding  night, 

The  mortal,  on  his  pillow  calmly  sleeping, 
Sees  not  the  band  of  angels,  clad  in  light, 

Around  his  couch  their  tireless  vigil  keeping. 
Perchance  his  thought  flies  wildly  high  and  far, 

A  thousand  shadowy  forms  his  sense  deceiving, 
But  in  the  woof  of  all  his  fancy  there, 

A  golden  thread  that  angel-band  are  weaving." —  Unknown. 

WONDROUS  changes  wore  rapidly  wrought  in  the  pal 
ace  of  pleasure  and  in  the  hearts  of  pain. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  glad-hearted  and  beau 
tiful  woman,  who  was  not  yet  beyond  the  prime  of  physi 
cal  life,  called  her  large  family  of  girls  together  and  ad 
dressed  them,  substantially,  thus : 

"A  great  happiness  has  come  to  me,  dear  girls!  and 
yet  I  have  a  great  misery  throbbing  in  my  heart.  My 
own  true  husband,  whom  I  love  and  worship  as  my  sav 
iour,  has  come ;  and  I  am  going  home  to  live  with  him, 
and  to  lead  henceforth  a  life  of1  charity  and  good- will  to 
all  under  (Gi-od's  heavens. 

"  But,  my  dear  homeless  girls  !  my  own  stricken  sis 
ters  !  what  will  become  of  you  ?  This  thought  fills  my 
heart  with  intense  misery. 

"  Alas !  I  see  too  plainly  your  looks  of  unutterable  dis 
tress — the  fountain  of  tears  within  your  sad  and  anxious 
faces,  wasting  so  rapidly  away  under  the  consuming  fires 
of  dissipation  and  despair. 

"  Girls !  with  a  bursting  heart  I  confess  to  Heaven  that 
I  have  taught  you —  yes,  almost  forced  you —  to  hate 
each  man,  and  all  men,  alike.  I  have  without  mercy 
mocked  at  your  yearnings  and  strivings  to  gain  the  pos- 


320  TALE   OF  A  PHYSICIAN. 

session  of  one  faithful,  manly,  human  heart  to  lean  upon 
through  life.  All  your  foolish  individual  jealousies,  aris 
ing,  as  all  jealousy  naturally  does  arise,  from  this  exclu 
sive,  pure  prompting  of  the  lone  heart  to  be  adored  and 
loved  above  every  other — I  have  steadily  and  mercilessly 
condemned.  In  the  sight  of  our  heavenly  Father,  and 
before  the  holy  angels  assembled  around  his  throne,  I 
confess  my  sins  and  humbly  pray  for  pardon  and  forgive 
ness. 

"  For  now,  O  my  darling  sisters !  I  behold  and  taste 
the  bitter  fruits  of  my  crime.  Sorrowfully,  regretfully, 
with  my  bosom  oppressed  Avith  a  wordless  agony,  I  see 
you  all  lying  around  me  like  wounded  and  dying  soldiers 
defeated  in  an  unequal  battle  of  a  false  life  with  men. 
God  in  heaven  knows  that  I,  too,  years  ago  have  longed 
and  prayed,  both  day  and  night,  for  a  sheltering  home 
for  my  boundless  and  all  too  passionate  love.  I  yearned, 
as  every  true  woman  yearns,  for  the  exclusive  possession 
of  one  true,  noble,  unchangeable,  manly  heart — at  once  a 
home,  an  anchor,  a  shelter,  and  a  salvation.  Alas !  it 
came  not  then ;  and  then  I  resolved  to  live  indepen 
dently  and  defiantly  all  my  life. 

"  But  now  my  earnest  prayer  is  answered.  He  has 
come!  O  joy,  joy  is  mine  !  My  own  true  deathless  dar 
ling  has  come !  And  very  soon  we  are  to  sail  away  to 
gether  to  establish  ourselves  in  a  home  of  love  and  happi 
ness.  We  leave  in  a  few  days  for  grand  old  mother 
Spain ;  the  great  and  powerful  country  of  my  long  de 
parted  ancestors. 

"  Now,  oh !  now  comes  my  pain,  my  grief — the  misery  of 
the  fruits  of  my  crime!  Home  and  a  true  heart  are  mine  J 
But,  O  my  sisters  !  you  can  not  go  with  us — we  shall  not 
meet  again  in  this  world — the  hour  of  parting  has  struck. 
Now,  where  can  you  go  ?  Must  I  leave  you  to  live  a  per 
petually  dying  life  ?  Is  there  no  hope,  no  heart,  no  home 


REAPING  THE   FRUITS   OF   CRIME.  321 

for  each  of  you  ?  Oh !  thank  merciful  Heaven !  You  need 
not  despair ;  you  may  turn  away,  and  live.  You  have 
bodily  health,  you  have  personal  beauty,  you  have  loving 
hearts,  (if  you  will  but  overcome  the  feelings  of  hate  and 
enmity  you  have  cherished,)  and,  oh!  believe  me  !  each  of 
you  may  henceforth  live,  and  you  know  you  ought  to 
live,  a  true  and  useful,  if  not  contented  and  happy  life. 
And  it  is  my  belief,  my  darling  sisters !  that  each  of  you 
should,  and  therefore  that  in  the  future  each  one  will, 
be  a  good  and  beautiful  companion  to  a  pure  and  noble 
gentleman. 

"But  here,  and  now,  girls,  you  should  not,  need  not, 
despair.  You  can  each  cheer  the  home  of  some  faithful, 
honest  man ;  and  thus  give  your  life  to  usefulness  and 
works  of  good  will.  Do  good,  without  selfishness,  for 
^ourselves,  my  darlings  !  Walk  in  the  right  path,  and 
die  in  it,  if  need  be ;  then  the  good  Father  of  all  will 
protect  and  bless  you.  The  bitter  slights  and  scornful 
repulses  of  so-called  Christians  you  need  not  notice.  No, 
no !  Immediately  you  can  leave  this  corrupting  city. 
You  can  commence  to  unfold  a  better  life  among  stran 
gers.  I  will  give  you  each  a  start.  You,  who  have  been 
long  with  me,  shall  this  day  each  receive  one  thousand 
dollars ;  and  five  hundred  dollars,  with  a  God-bless-you, 
shall  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  each  of  the  others. 

"  Go,  therefore,  my  darling  sisters !  Go,  far  away  into 
the  great  West — into  new  towns  and  villages,  on  this, 
young  republican  continent ;  learn  useful  trades ;  open 
stores  in  distant  cities  where  you  will  not  be  known ;  do 
some  good  deed  under  all  circumstances,  and  thus  by  the 
help  of  Almighty  God,  and  with  the  blessings  of  his  holy 
angels,  you  shall  prosper.  You  shall  come  out  of  the  fire 
of  this  sin  as  bright  and  as  pure  as  Divine  Love  itself. 

"  O  this  painful,  parting  hour !  And  yet,  oh !  the  joy  of 
this,  the  proudest,  the  happiest  moment  of  my  dark, 


322  TALE   OF   A  PHYSICIAN. 

dreary  life.  Yes,  oh  !  believe  me !  my  heart  is  overflow 
ing  with  tears  of  sympathy  for  you,  my  unhappy,  home 
less  darlings  !  My  own  miserable  children  !  My  own 
unfortunate,  despairing  sisters  !  No,  no,  despair  not ! 
Weep  not !  but  turn  and  live.  I  promise  you  that  the 
roses  on  your  cheeks  shall  not  fade,  if  you  will  but  go 
forth  cheerfully,  and  live  pure  and  useful  lives.  But,  O 
my  yet  too  hopeless  sisters !  if  you  heed  not  my  parting 
counsel — if  you  plunge  forward  again  into  the  wrathful 
streams  of  this  consuming  evil — oh !  then,  my  darlings ! 
you  will  sink — yes,  I  know  too  well  you  will  sink — be 
neath  the  angry  waves — you  will  go  down,  down,  down 
into  paleness,  into  black  despair,  and  into  everlasting- 
death — dying  miserably  into  death  in  a  few  short  years 
— the  same  as  ships,  once  proud  and  beautiful,  go  sud 
denly  down  in  midnight  storms — unknown,  unpitied,  am^ 
soon  remembered  no  more." 

sic  :}:  %  %  :Jc  % 

On  that  very  day  the  saved  and  happy  lady  gave  to 
each  girl  the  exact  sum  of  money  which  she  had  prom 
ised;  and  immediately  the  gorgeous  establishment  of 
Madame  Nelson,  so  long  known  and  celebrated  by  the 
pleasure-seekers  of  New-York,  was  closed  forever.  •  A 
lai'ge  sum  was  realized  from  the  auction  sales  of  the 
princely  accumulations  of  the  rich  and  lavish  pro- 
prietoress. 

Then  Doctor  Du  Bois  handed  to  his  beloved  Sophia 
Captain  Aragoni's  last  two  letters,  which  had  been  care 
fully  preserved  twenty  years  in  the  physician's  strong 
iron  box.  She,  at  first,  recoiled  from  them.  At  length, 
however,  she  consented  to  read  their  contents,  as 
follows: 

MILITARY  PRISON,  NEW  ORLEANS, 

November,  1820. 
DEAR  Miss  SOPHIA  MARIGNY  : 

I  am  not  worthy  of  you,  and  you  shall  not  be  insulted  with  the 


HEAPING  THE  FEUITS  OF  CRIME.  323 

stigma  of  my  name.  Life  appals  me  now,  since  you  know,  by  the 
exercise  of  some  supernatural  power,  that  I  have  assassinated — or 
thought  I  did — my  own  mother's  son  by  your  father's  libidinous 
brother ;  and  for  no  other  motive  than  to  procure  the  immense 
estates  within  the  walls  of  Madrid,  which,  by  his  father's  last  will, 
belonged  to  him  during  his  life-time  and  then  came  to  me  and  my 
heirs  with  absolute  right  and  title.  My  unconquerable  pride,  my 
ungovernable  passions,  and  my  insane  thirst  for  position  and  wealth 
have  made  of  me  a  counterfeiter,  a  forger,  a  robber,  and  an  assassin. 
The  farce  of  a  trial  I  can  not  bear,  therefore  forever  and  forever 
adieu,  adieu.  ARAGONI. 

Then  she  opened  the  letter  addressed  by  the  suicide  to 
"  our  beloved  child,"  which  read  thus : 

MILITARY  PBISON,  NEW-ORLEANS, 

November,  1820. 
MY  BELOVED  CHILD  : 

When  a  man  who  sometimes  writes  his  name  George  de  Freronier 
is  dead  ;  when  a  man  who  sometimes  writes  his  name  Captain  John 
Nelson,  is  dead  ;  and  when  the  man  who  writes  this,  Jacques  del 
Aragoni,  is  dead  ;  then,  my  child,  you  are  sole  proprietor  of  the 
Spanish  fortune  within  the  walls  of  Madrid,  which,  at  present,  is 
known  as  the  Marigny  estate,  but  now  by  law  the  property  of  one 
Carmo  del  Aragoni ;  who,  owing  to  the  multiplicity  of  his  bloody 
and  deadly  deeds  in  Spain  and  in  America,  is  afraid  to  appear  and 
take  legal  possession  of  the  immense  inheritance.  The  death  of 
that  villain,  who  poisoned  his  own  father  and  stabbed  his  mother 
to  the  heart,  makes  my  child  the  wealthiest  person  in  all  Madrid. 

ADIEU!  ADIEU! 

"  Wonderful  tidings !"  said  the  doctor.  "  Now  where 
is  your  child  ?" 

This  question  opened  afresh  the  long-sealed  fountains 
of  her  sorrow. 

"  Lost !"  she  cried.  "  Lost  on  the  chain  of  mountains 
which  stretch  through  the  Island  of  Cuba." 

"  Darling  Sophia !"  he  quickly  replied,  "  sometimes  I 
have  almost  believed  your  son  to  be  this  remarkable 
young  Fred  Wilson.  He,  I  believe,  remembers  hearing 
from  his  old  nurse  something  about  his  lost  mother." 

"  Impossible !"  she  cried.  "  And  yet,  oh !  let  me  see 
him !  let  me  see  him  !" 


324  TALE   OF   A   PHYSICIAN. 

The  physician  soon  brought  the  young  New-York  de 
tective  into  the  lady's  presence. 

"  Ah  doctor !"  said  Wilson,  gracefully  bowing,  "  this 
lady  is  the  sweet  singer  who  saved  me  from  the  com 
mission  of  a  great  crime.  She,  sir,  is  my  adorable  re 
deemer." 

The  now  greatly  excited  lady  looked  at  him  with  in 
tense  anxiety.  His  pale  face,  his  long,  wavy,  black  beard, 
his  fine  curly  hair,  his  tall,  manly  bearing — all  strange 
to  her  longing  eyes.  Alas !  she  could  not  see  in  him  her 
little  sad-eyed,  incomprehensible,  cheerless  baby  boy, 
whom  she  had  twenty  long  years  before  left  in  the  arms 
of  his  nurse  in  the  rich  Spanish  mansion. 

"  Young  man,"  she  said,  looking  him  earnestly  in  the 
eyes,  "  will  you  oblige  me  by  showing  me  your  right 
shoulder  near  the  neck  ?" 

He  removed  his  garments  so  that  she  could  see  the 
"  mark"  which  in  a  certain  moment  her  suffering  spirit 
had  impressed  upon  his  white  skin. 

"  Cctrmof"  she  instantly  cried — "my  own  child!  my 
long  lost  son!"  and  she  fell  upon  his  neck  in  a  paroxysm 
of  joy. 

;  "  My  own  darling  mother !"  he  said,  folding  her  pas 
sionately  in  his  arms  and  embracing  her  over  and  over 
again.  "  O  my  God !  I  thank  thee  for  my  mother !  My 
own  sweet-voiced,  darling  mother!  my  adorable  re 
deemer  !" 


In  the  evening  of  that  day  the  four  happy  ones  drove 
in  a  carriage  through  the  crowded  streets  to  the  residence 
of  a  well-known  Presbyterian  minister — a  pleasant, 
elderly,  white-haired  gentleman — by  whom  the  beautiful 
Madame  Nelson,  of  New- York,  became  in  law  (as  she 
had  been  for  yearsjin  spirit  and  in  truth)  the  bride  of 


REAPING  THE  FRUITS  OF  CRIME.  325 

Doctor  La  Force  Du  Bois,  of  New-Orleans  ;  and  on  the 
same  occasion,  and  by  the  legal  authority  of  the  same 
minister,  the  young  golden-haired,  bright-faced,  inno 
cent  Mary  Morgan,  of  Syracuse,  became  the  true  and 
happy  wife  of  the  redeemed  and  wealthy  Carmo  del 
Aragoni. 

In  a  certain  city  in  Spain  a  grand  charitable  asylum 
for  homeless  girls  was  established,  and  an  immense 
foundling  hospital  was  erected  and  furnished  with  every 
comfort,  by  the  rich  and  universally  beloved  Madame  Du 
Bois.  One  of  the  most  distinguished  men  in  the  govern 
ment  of  the  ancient  kingdom  was  the  great  General 
Carmo  del  Aragoni.  His  brilliant-faced  and  happy- 
hearted  American  wife  was  courted,  admired,  and  re 
spected  by  all  the  gallant  officers  and  fair  ladies  at  the 
Spanish  capital.  But  mankind  must  wait  awhile  longer 
for  the  publication  of  the  noble  physician's  great  scien 
tific  work  on  the  causes  and  cure  of  crime. 


FINIS. 


DESCRIPTIVE  LIST 


ANDREW  JACKSON    DAVIS, 

FOR  SALE  BY 

-    WM.  WHITE  &  CO. 

(PUBLISHERS  OF  BANNER  OF  LIGHT),. 

No,  158  Washington  Street,  Boston,  Mass,, 

AND 

American  News  Company,  New  York, 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  NATURE : 
Her  Divine  Revelations,  and  a  Voice  to  Mankind.  (In  three  parts.) 

Thirtieth  Edition,  just  published,  with  a  likeness  of  the  clairvoyant  author,  and 
containing  a  family  record  for  marriages,  births,  and  deaths.  This  book  contains  the 
basis  and  philosophy  on  which  the  whole  structure  of  Spiritualism  rests.  It  embodies 
and  condenses  the  fundamental  principles  of  human  life  and  human  progress  up  to 
and  beyond  the  present,  and  has  a  steady  and  constant  sale.  Price,  |3.50 ;  postage, 
43  cents. 


THE    GREAT   HARHONIA: 

Being  a  Philosophical  Revelation  of  the  Natural,  Spiritual,  and 
Celestial  Universe,  in  Five  Volumes. 

Vol.  I.  THE  PHYSICIAN.  Contents  of  Vol.  I.— What  is  Man  ?  What  is  the 
Philosophy  of  Health  ?  What  is  the  Philosophy  of  Disease  ?  What  is  the  Philosophy 
of  Sleep  ?  What  is  the  Philosophy  of  Death  ?  What  is  the  Philosophy  of  Psychology  ? 
What  is  the  Philosophy  of  Healing?  Thousands  in  the  United  States,  and  very  many 
in  Europe,  have  read  this  volume  with  delight.  The  author's  description  of  "  The 
Philosophy  of  Death  "  is  alone  worth  more  than  the  price  of  the  book.  No  one  can 
read  and  remain  unmoved.  The  volume  is  especially  useful  to  every  family  as  a  work 
on  medicine  and  the  science  of  disease  and  health.  Price,  $1.50;  Postage,  20  cents. 

Vol.  II.  THE  TEACHER,  Contents  of  Vol.  II.— My  Early  Experience ;  My 
Preacher  and  his  Church;  The  True  Keformer;  Philosophy  of  Charity;  Individual 
and  Social  Culture;  The  Mission  of  Woman;  The  True  Marriage  ;  Moral  Freedom  ; 
Philosophy  of  Immortality;  The  Spirit's  Destiny;  Concerning  the  Deity.  In  this 
volume  is  presented  the  new  and  wonderful  principles  of  "Spirit,  and  its  Culture ;" 
also,  a  comprehensive  and  systematic  argument  on  the  "  Existence  of  God."  Price, 
$1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 

Vol.  III.  THE  SEER.  This  volume  is  composed  of  twenty-seven  Lectures  on 
every  phase  of  Magnetism  and  Clairvoyance  in  the  past  and  present  of  human 
history.  Swedenborg's  condition  is  thoroughly  examined.  Amoug  the  subjects 
treated  are,  Philosophy  of  Clairvoyance  and  Inspiration  ;  Man's  Ordinary  State, 
considered  in  Connection  with  the  External  World  and  to  the  Spiritual  Universe; 
Dependencies  existing  between  the  Body  and  the  Soul ;  Action  of  the  Mind  upon 
the  Body  in  Disease;  Manifestations  of  a  Universal  Sympathy;  On  the  Historical 
Evidences  of  the  Psycho-sympathetic  State;  Condition  of  Ancient  Prophets,  Seers, 
and  Religious  Chieftains;  The  Phenomena  and  History  of  Clairvoyance;  Tim 
Spiritual  State  and  its  External  Manifestations;  Concerning  the  Principles  and 
Causes  of  -True  Inspiration ;  The  Philosophy  of  Ordinary  and  Extraordinary 
Dreaming;  The  Sources  of  Human  Happiness  and  Misery  Philosophically  Con 
sidered;  A  Brief  Exposition  of  the  Satan  which  Tempted  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ;  The 
Authority  of  the  Harmonial  Philosophy ;  On  the  Uses  and  the  Abuses  of  the 
Sabbath.  Price,  $1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 

Vol.  IV.  THE  REFORMER.  This  volume  contains  truths  eminently  service 
able  in  the  elevation  of  the  race.  It  is  devoted  to  the  consideration  of  "  Physiological 
Vices  and  Virtues,  and  the  Seven  Phases  of  Marriage."  It  covers  ground  never 
before  occupied  by  any  reformatory  writer,  and  teaches  the  most  important  truths 
upon  the  most  vital  questions  that  can  agitate  any  mind — those  of  Marriage  and 
Parentage.  It  is  a  work  that  appeals  first  to  man's  consciousness,  by  a  clear  repre 
sentation  of  existing  evils ;  and  next  to  the  higher  faculties,  by  pointing  out  the 
"  highway  of  freedom  "  from  all  these  evils.  Satisfying  as  it  does  the  understanding, 
it  affords  valuable  aid  to  the  individual  in  rooting  out  bad  habits  and  reforming 
vicious  tendencies.  It  is  a  safe  book  for  youth,  for  it  has  not  the  least  indelicacy  of 
sentiment  or  expression;  and  it  furnishes  just  such  knowledge,  and  inculcates  such 
principles,  as  are  calculated  to  preserve  the  youthful  mind  from  contamination,  and 
insure  the  practice  of  virtue.  It  is  an  invaluable  book  for  the  newly-married,  for 
it  points  out  the  danger  and  consequences  of  extremism  and  inversionism,  and  im 
parts  that  information  concerning  the  reproductive  functions  necessary  to  avoid 
conjugal  misdirections.  Price,  $1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 


Vol.  V.  THE  THINKER.  This  volume  is  by  numerous  readers  prom.anwd 
the  most  comprehensive  and  best  sustained  of  the  series.  Bead  it,  and  you  will 
become  acquainted  with  all  the  great  central  "  Ideas"  which,  aided  by  the  minds  by 
whom  they  were  unfolded,  have  carried  forward  the  mighty  growth  of  humanity. 
Bead  it,  and  you  will  learn  of  the  "  Origin  of  Life,  and  the  Law  of  Immortality." 
In  this  volume  you  will  nlso  find  very  many  now  and  instructive  diagrams.  Price, 
$1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 


THE  PRESENT   AGE,   AND   INNER  LIFE: 
Ancient  and  Modern  Mysteries  Classified  and  Explained.  • 

The  best  critics  have  pronounced  this  work  one  of  the  most  classically  pure  of 
all  the  volumes  of  the  author.  It  abounds  with  thrilling  passages ;  and  no  ono  can 
fail  to,bo  instructed  by  the  systematic  "classification"  of  all  the  wonderful  develop 
ments  of  modern  days.  The  work  is,  in  Itself,  almost  a  demonstration  of  the  claims 
of  Spiritualism.  Price,  $1.50  ;  postage,  20  cents. 


THE  PENETRALIA. 

This  work,  which  at  the  time  was  styled  by  the  author,  "the  wisest  book  "  from 
his  pen,  deserves  to  be  brought  prominently  before  the  American  public.  The 
importance  of  the  subjects  considered,  and  the  peculiarly  terse  and  original  style  In 
which  they  are  handled,  combine  to  give  the  book  a  most  noticeable  character. 
While  the  topics  are  mainly  theological,  many  questions  of  practical  interest  and 
value  are  answered,  thus  rendering  the  volume  an  acquisition  to  the  student  and  phi 
losopher,  as  well  as  the  theologian.  Price,  $1.75;  postage,  24  cents. 


.     THE   HARBINGER   OP  HEALTH: 
Containing  Medical  Prescriptions  for  the  Human  Body  and  Mind. 

Tliis  new  and  rare  volume  contains  more  than  three  hundred  prescriptions  for  the 
treatment  and  cure  of  over  one  hundred  different  diseases,  and  forms  of  disease, 
Incident  to  mankind  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  author's  prescriptions  are  given 
In  the  light  of  the  "Superior  Condition."  The  Harbinger  of  Health  has  never  failed 
to  awaken  intense  interest  in  the  minds  of  the  most  intelligent  of  the  Medical  Pro 
fession,  and  it  is  invaluable  to  the  general  reader,  containing  as  it  does,  information 
concerning  methods  of  treatment  hitherto  unknown  to  the  world,  and  imparting  im 
portant  suggestions  respecting  the  "Will  Power  and  the  Self-Healing  Energies,  which 
are  better  than  medicine.  It  is  a  plain,  simple  guide  to  health,  with  no  quackery,  no 
humbug,  no  universal  panacea.  Price,  $1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 


ANSWERS  TO    EVER-RECURRING  QUESTIONS    FROM    THE 

PEOPLE. 

During  the  period  which  has  elapsed  since  the  publication  of  the  author's  work 
entitled  the  "  Penetralia,"  a  multitude  of  questions  have  been  propounded  to  him. 
From  this  list  of  several  hundred  interrogatories,  those  of  the  most  permanent  inter- 


est  and  highest  value  have  been  carefully  selected,  and  the  result  is  the  present 
volume,  comprising  well-considered  and  intelligent  replies  to  more  than  two  hun 
dred  important  questions.  It  is  believed  by  hundreds  that  this  work  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  and  useful  volumes  that  has  been  issued.  It  invites  the  perusal  not 
only  of  those  vitally  interested  in  the  topics  discussed,  but  of  all  persous  capable  of 
putting  a  question.  It  awakens  inquiry  and  develops  thought  The  wide  range  of 
subjects  embraced  can  be  inferred  from  the  table  of  contents.  An  examination  of 
the  book  itself  will  reveal  the  clearness  of  style  and  vigor  of  method  characterlring 
the  replies.  Price,  $1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 


MORNING  LECTURES: 

Twenty  Discourses,  delivered  in  the  City  of  Nbw  York,  in  the 
Winter  and  Spring  of  1863. 

This  volume  Is  overflowing  with  that  peculiar  inspiration  which  carries  the 
reader  into  the  region  of  new  ideas.  The  discourses  are  clothed  in  language  plain 
and  forcible,  and  the  arguments  and.  illustrations  convey  conviction.  Among  the 
subjects  treated  are : — " The  "World's  True  Redeemer ;"  "The  End  of  the  World;" 
"  The  Reign  of  Anti-Christ ;"  "  The  Spirit,  and  its  Circumstances ;"  "  Eternal  Value 
of  Pure  Purposes ;"  ""Wars  of  Blood,  Brain,  and  Spirit;1'  "False  and  True  Educa 
tion  ;"  tt  Social  Life  in  the  Summer  Land  ;"  &c.  This  volume  of  plain  lectures  is  just 
the  book  to  put  into  the  hands  of  skeptics  and  new  beginners  in  Spiritualism.  Price, 
$1.50 ;  postage,  20  cents. 


A  STELLAR  KEY  TO  THE  SUMMER  LAND. 

Part  I.    Illustrated  with  Diagrams  and  Engravings  of  Celestial  Scenery. 

The  author  has  heretofore  explained  the  wonders  of  creation,  the  mysteries  of 
science  and  philosophy,  the  order,  progress,  and  harmony  of  Nature  in  thousands  of 
pages  of  living  inspiration.  He  has  solved  the  mystery  of  death,  and  revealed  the 
connection  between  the  world  of  matter  and  the  world  of  spirits.  Mr.  Davis  opens 
wide  the  door  of  future  human  life,  and  shows  us  where  we  are  to  dwell  when  we  put 
aside  the  garments  of  mortality  for  the  vestments  of  angels.  The  account  of  tho 
spiritual  universe ;  the  immortal  mind  looking  into  the  heavens ;  the  existence  of  a 
spiritual  zone — its  possibilities  and  probabilities — its  formation  and  scientific  cer 
tainty  ;  the  harmonies  of  the  universe ;  the  physical  scenery  and  constitution  of  tho 
Summer  Land — its  location,  and  domestic  life  in  the  spheres,  are  new  and  wonderfully 
interesting.  Price,  $1.00 ;  postage,  1 6  cents. 


ARABULA;   OR,  THE  DIVINE  GUEST. 

This  fresh  and  beautiful  volume  is  selling  rapidly,  because  it  supplies  a  deep  reli 
gious  want  in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  Best  literary  minds  are  gratified,  while  truly 
religions  readers  are  spiritually  fed  with  the  contents  of  this  volume.  All  who  want 


to  understand  and  enjoy  the  grand  central  truths  of  the  Harinonlal  Philosophy,  and 
all  who  would  investigate  the  teachings  and  religion  of  Spiritualism,  should  read 
this  inspired  book.  It  contains  a  New  Collection  of  Gospels  by  Saints  not  before 
canonized,  and  its  chapters  are  teeming  with  truths  for  humanity,  and  with  fresh 
tidings  from  the  beloved  beyond  the  tomb.  The  names  of  the  new  Saints  are : — St 
Rishis,  St.  Menu,  St.  Confucius,  St.  Siamer,  St.  Syrus,  St.  Gabriel,  St  John,  St. 
Pneumai  St.  James,  St  Gerrit,  St.  Theodore,  St.  Octavius,  St.  Samuel,  St  Eliza,  St. 
Emma,  St.  Ealph,  St.  Asaph,  St.  Mnry,  St.  Selden,  St.  Lotta.  Price,  $1.50;  postage, 
20  cents. 


THE  MAGIC  STAFF: 
An  Autobiography  of  Andrew  Jackson  Davis. 

"  This  most  singular  biography  of  a  most  singular  person,"  has  been  extensively 
read  in  this  country,  and  is  now  translated  and  published  in  the  German  language. 
It  is  a  complete  personal  history  of  the  clairvoyant  experiences  of  the  author  from 
his  earliest  childhood  to  1S56.  All  important  details  are  carefully  and  conscientiously 
given.  Every  statement  is  authentic  and  beyond  controversy.  In  this  volume 
(including  the  autobiographical  parts  of  "Arabula"  and  "Memoranda"  which 
enter  largely  into  the  author's  personal  experiences),  the  public  will  find  a  final 
answer  to  all  slanders  and  misrepresentations.  Thousands  of  copies  of  the 
"Magic  Staff"  have  been  sold  in  the  United  States,  and  the  demand,  instead  of 
being  supplied,  is  increasing.  Price,  $1.75 ;  postage,  24  cents. 


MEMORANDA  OF  PERSONS,  PLACES,  AND  EVENTS: 

Embracing  Authentic  Facts,  Visions,  Impressions,  Discoveries  in 

Magnetism,  Clairvoyance,  and  Spiritualism. 

This  volume  of  transcripts  from  the  observation  and  experience  of  Mr.  Davis 
will  be  welcomed  with  great  pleasure  by  his  tens  of  thousands  of  readers,  in  which 
they  will  find  a  great  variety  of  those  fresh  and  fleeting  "  impressions "  of  the 
inspired  seer,  carefully  set  down  by  his  own  hand  for  a  period  of  over  twenty-two 
years,  that  can  not  but  let  them  further  than  ever  into  his  own  nature,  and  the  mys 
terious  realms  which  his  vision  is  permitted  to  penetrate  and  search.  There  is  a 
peculiar  freshness  about  this  latest  book  from  Mr.  Davis  that  makes  it  specially 
attractive  to  the  general  reader.  His  off-hand  characterization  of  persons  of  note 
will  strike  all  as  peculiarly  apt  and  effective.  In  fact,  it  is  a  sort  of  mirror  for  all  to 
look  into.  This  volume  should  be  read  by  all  who  have  perused  the  "Magic  Staff." 
The  Appendix,  containing  the  fine  translation  of  Zschokke's  tale  of  the  "  Transfig 
uration,"  will  attract,  all  to  its  perusal,  since  it  illustrates  the  curative  powers  of 
human  magnetism,  and  the  spiritual  beauty  and  purity  of  the  superior  condition. 
This  book  is  also  particularly  valuable  to  history,  because  it  contains  a  chapter 
written  by  Mary  JT.  Davis,  concerning  the  "Introduction  of  the  Harmonial  Phi 
losophy  into  Germany."  Price,  $1.50;  Postage,  20  cents. 


6 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPECIAL  PROVIDENCES. 

This  is  a  small  pamphlet  of  fifty-five  pages,  but  Is  living  with  thought.  The 
author  considers  the  question,  "Are  there  Special  Providences  ?"  and  no  one  can 
fail  to  be  instructed  and  elevated  by  its  perusal .  The  pamphlet  contains  Two 
Visions,  and  An  Argument.  Price,  20  cents. 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  SPIRITUAL  INTERCOURSE. 

COOTENTS. — Truth  and  Mystery ;  God's  Universal  Providence ;  The  Miracles  of 
this  Age ;  The  Decay  of  Superstition ;  The  Guardianship  of  Spirits ;  The  Discern 
ment  of  Spirits;  The  Stratford  Mysteries;  The  Doctrine  of  Evil  Spirits;  The 
Origin  of  Spirit  Sounds;  Concerning  Sympathetic  Spirits;  The  Formation  of 
Circles;  The  Resurrection  of  the  Dead;  A  Voice  from  the  Spirit  Land;  The  True 
Eeligion.  In  this  thrilling  work  the  reader  is  presented  with  an  account  of  the 
very  wonderful  Spiritual  Developments  at  the  house  of  the  Eev.  Dr.  Phelphs,  of 
Stratford,  Connecticut;  and  besides  these,  the  work  is  replete  with  similar  cases  in 
all  parts  of  the  country.  This  work  is  completed  by  its  sequel,  entitled  "  Present 
Age  and  Inner  Life."  Price,  in  paper,  60  cents;  cloth,  $1.00 ;  postage,  16  cents. 


FREE  THOUGHTS  CONCERNING  RELIGION. 

This  pamphlet  contains  short  arguments,  fresh  and  vigorous,  substantiated  by 
plain  historical  and  geological  facts,  against  the  popularly  received  idea  that  the 
"  Bible  is  the  word  of  God."  Infallibility  is  demolished,  and  creeds  finely 
pulverized  in  the  mill  of  truth.  As  a  little  pamphlet,  it  is  calculated  to  "  stir  up 
thought"  in  a  bigoted  neighborhood.  "We  recommend  "Free  Thoughts  Con 
cerning  Eeligion."  Price,  20  cents. 


THE  HARMONIAL  MAN. 

CONTEXTS. — How  shall  we  Improve  Society  ?  The  Influence  of  Churches ;  The 
Necessity  of  Organic  Liberty;  Mankind's  Natural  Needs;  The  Means  by  which  to 
Secure  Them ;  The  Philosophy  of  Producing  Eain ;  A  Statement  of  Popular 
Theories;  The  Causes  of  Eain  Explained;  The  Philosophy  of  Controlling  Eain; 
Answer  to  Scientific  Objections;  Plagiarism;  Clairvoyance  Illustrated;  What  will 
People  Say;  The  Pirate's  Simple  Narrative.  The  contents  of  this  little  work  are 
designed  to  enlarge  man's  views  concerning  the  political  and  ecclesiastical  condition 
of  our  country,  and  to  point  out,  or  at  least  to  suggest,  the  paths  of  reform  which 
the  true  Harmonial  Man  shall  tread.  "We  might  add  many  commendatory  notices 
of  the  press,  but  it  is  deemed  sufficient  to  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  work,  by 


publishing  its  table  of  contents.  Those  who  know  Mr.  Da-vis'  style  of  treating  his 
subjects,  will  not  need  to  be  informed  that  this  little  book  is  full  of  important 
thoughts.  Trice,  in  paper,  50  cents ;  cloth,  75  cents ;  postage,  16  cents. 


THE  APPROACHING  CRISIS: 

A  Review  of  Dr.  BushnelTs  Lectures  on  Supernaturalism. 
%  / 

The  great  question  of  this  age,  which  is  destined  to  convulse  and  divide  Protest 
antism,  and  around  which  all  other  religious  controversies  must  necessarily  revolve, 
is  exegetically  foreshadowed  in  this  Review,  which  is  composed  of  six  discourses 
delivered  by  the  author  before  the  Harmonial  Brotherhood  of  Hartford,  Connecticut. 
It  is  affirmed  by  many  of  the  most  careful  readers  of  Mr.  Davis's  works,  that  the 
best  explanation  of  the  "  Origin  of  Evil,"  and  of  "  Free  Agency,"  is  to  be  found  in 
this  Review.  Price,  cloth,  $1.00;  postage,  18  cents. 


THE   HISTORY   AND   PHILOSOPHY   OF  EVIL. 

The  headings  of  the  chapters  in  this  pamphlet  gire  an  idea  of  its  purport,  viz. : — 
I.  The  Unity  of  Truth ;  II.  The  Anti-Human  Theory  of  Evil ;  III.  The  Inter-Hu 
man  Theory  of  Evil ;  IV.  The  Super-Human  Theory  of  Evil ;  V.  The  Spiritual 
Theory  of  Evil ;  VI.  The  Harmonial  Theory  of  Evil;  VII.  The  Cause  of  Civiliza 
tion  ;  VIII.  The  "World's  True  Saviour  Discovered ;  IX.  The  Harmonial  Cure  of 
Evil.  The  whole  question  of  evil— individual,  social,  national,  and  general— is  fully 
analyzed  and  answered  by  the  author  in  this  compact  pamphlet.  It  has  been  exten 
sively  circulated,  and  is  highly  prized  by  all  intelligent  readers  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic.  Price, in  paper,  50 cents;  cloth,  75  cents;  postage,  12  cents. 


DEATH,   AND   THE   AFTER  LIFE. 

This  little  work  contains  three  Lectures,  and  a  Voice  from  the  Summer  Land. 
The  titles  are:— I.  Death,  and  the  After  Life ;  II.  Scenes  in  the  Summer  Land;  III. 
Society  in  the  Summer  Land ;  IV.  Voice  from  James  Victor  "Wilson.  Thousands  of 
this  new  and  consoling  pamphlet  have  been  published  and  sold.  In  the  sick-room, 
where  spiritual  consolations  are  required,  or  in  the  hands  of  the  lonely  and  bereft, 
this  work  is  effective.  Price,  in  paper,  85  cents;  cloth,  50  cents ;  postage,  8  cents. 


THE  CHILDREN'S  PROGRESSIVE  LYCEUM. 

A  Manual,  with  Directions  for  the  Organization  and  Management  of  Sunday 
Schools,  adapted  to  the  Bodies  and  Minds  of  the  Young,  and  containing  Rules, 
Methods,  Exercises,  Marches,  Lessons,  Questions  and  Answers,  Invocations,  Silver 


8 

Chain  Recitations,  Hymns,  and  Songs.  If  any  doubt  that  this  Lyceum  movement  is 
an  inspiration,  let  them  stand  among  the  groups  a  single  day ;  let  them  feel  the  holy 
influences  that  fall  in  showers  from  the  higher  spheres  ;  the  uprisings  of  the  soul,  as 
involuntarily  it  answers  to  the  call  from  its  true  home;  the  inspirations  that  full 
upon  the  heart  like  angel  breathings,  thrilling  ea,ch  string  with  melody,  and  filling 
the  whole  being  with  a  yearning  for  God  and  Heaven.  Hundreds  of  these  beautiful 
"  Children's  Lyceums"  have  been  organized  during  the  past  year,  and  thousands  of 
juveniles  and  youths  of  both  sexes  have  embarked  on  the  great  journey  of  progres 
sion.  This  Manual  is  a  chart  to  indicate  the  best  methods  in  the  grouping  and  educat 
ing  process.  Price,  70  cents;  postage,  8  cents;  for  twelve  copies,  $8.00 ;  for  fifty* 
conies,  $30.00 ;  and  for  one  hundred  copies,  $50.00. 

We  have  also  published  an 


ABRIDGED  EDITION  OP  THE  LYCEUM  MANUAL, 

Comprising  all  the  Rules,  Marc7ies,  Lessons,  Silver  Chain  Recitations,  Hymns,  Songs, 
<&c.,  printed  on  good  paper,  and  firmly  bound  in  cloth,  at  40  cents  per  copy,  and  4  cents 
postage  if  sent  by  mail ;  for  twelve  copies,  $4.00 ;  for  fifty  copies,  $16.00 ;  and  for  one 
hundred  copies,  $28.00. 

The  whole  set  (twenty-two  volumes)  $24.00;  a  most  valuable  present  for  a  library 
public  or  private. 

We  have  also  a  large  Lithographic  Likeness  of  the  Author.    Price,  $1.25. 

JS^~  On  receipt  of  $24.00,  we  will  carefully  and  securely  pack  and  ship,  to  order, 
one  copy  of  each  of  these  works,  and  also  one  lithographic  likeness. 

J2?~  When  drafts  on  Boston  or  New  York  can  not  be  procured,  we  desire  our  pa 
trons  to  send,  in  lieu  thereof,  a  Post-Office  money  order.  Post-Office  orders  are 
always  safe,  as  are  registered  letters  under  the  new  law. 


all  orders  to  WILLIAM  WHITE  &  CO.,  Publishers, 
Banner  of  Light  Office,  158  Washington  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

New  York  Agents :  American  News  Company. 


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